


One More Ending

by CHPrime



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/F, F/M, Groundhog Years, It's just people talking with a fight scene here or there, M/M, Multi, New Game Plus, Politics, Reality Ensues?, Shipping, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 98,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21855925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CHPrime/pseuds/CHPrime
Summary: “I have explored more possibilities then I can count, and caused more then I can remember. No matter what I do, I always return to this beginning. Now, after so long, I seek its end.”Some people would give anything for another chance at their life. After living through her own a thousand times over, Byleth is just looking for a way to end it. New Game Plus taken seriously.
Relationships: Catherine/Shamir Nevrand, Claude von Regan/My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Ferdinand von Aegir/Dorothea Arnault/Hubert von Vestra, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Anyone she wants, Jeralt Reus Eisner/My Unit | Byleth's Mother, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Mercedes von Martritz/Dedue Molinaro, Minor or Background Relationship(s), My Unit | Byleth/Everyone, Wilhelm Paul Hresvelg/Rhea
Comments: 251
Kudos: 685





	1. Brought by the Flow of Time

Rhea consciously held down her own excitement. Below her, the long wayward Jeralt had returned to Garreg Mach, staring up at her with his long missing child in tow. Far more exciting was the fact that the child had developed green hair and eyes in the twenty years since her birth. It wasn’t the dark verdant green Rhea remembered of her mother, but the shift from the dark blue the child had in her infancy was an encouraging sign.

As Rhea looked closer, she could spot that the child hid her ears beneath her hair. Another hopeful sight. Rhea caught herself brushing her hand over her own ear, stopping just before she disturbed her extensive comb-work. These were promising signs of Sothis’ blessing, but nothing to lose her composure over. As calmly as she could, she broke the pair’s gaze as Jeralt leaned over to whisper something to Byleth. Walking away from the balcony, Rhea moved to find Seteth, who was hard at work in his office.

“Seteth.”

“Hm?” Seteth looked up from whatever he was scribbling. “Rhea? What is it? If it’s about the three heirs, I’ve already-“

“No, not that. It’s about their rescuers.”

“The Blade Breaker and his daughter the Ashen Demon, was it?” Seteth asked.

“Yes, them. I would like to speak with them both as soon as possible.” After Rhea spoke, she wondered if she had let too much excitement into her voice. Seteth’s brow had furrowed, confusion creeping onto his face.

His voice remained even. “I can rearrange your schedule and summon them now, if you like.”

“Please do.” Rhea fought off her giddiness before continuing. “I would also like you to be present for the meeting.”

Seteth did an admirable job of hiding a groan in his sigh. “Rhea, I have work to do. Why is this important?”

“Seteth, please.” His face remained unmoved. “I know Jeralt. The two will likely be here for some time.” Still no reaction. “Seteth, this is important, I promise.”

At last, he sighed. “As you wish, Lady Rhea.”

Rhea smiled at her second. “Thank you, Seteth. I appreciate it.”

* * *

After a few minutes, Rhea walked into her audience chamber with Seteth just behind her. Jeralt was speaking to Byleth, his shoulders tense and face worried. Rhea had hoped the years had sanded away at the rough edges of their last meeting, but perhaps not. Still, Rhea was confident that she could secure Jeralt and Sothis’ vessel for at least a few months.

As she and Seteth took their places at the front of the room, Rhea’s eyes turned to the child’s face. She had the same mint green hair Rhea had seen from the distance. Her ears remained stubbornly hidden behind her hair in a straight, simple, almost messy style not unlike what Rhea would wear when she grew tired of weaving her hair together every morning.

More hope rose in Rhea when she looked at the vessel’s eyes. They were a darker green then her hair, but in the lower light, Rhea could almost see a soft, subtle glow they produced, not unlike what Rhea saw in her own reflection when her power was bubbling forth. Surely, this was a very good sign, and Sothis’ resurrection was at hand, if it had not already occurred. None of the other twelve had ever shown signs of Nabatean heritage.

Seteth was looking oddly at the child. Understandable. Rhea had yet to tell him about her experiments. He was undoubtedly confused about the vessel’s resemblance to their lost kin.

Still, he remained professional. “Thank you for your patience, Jeralt. My name is Seteth. I am an advisor to the archbishop,”

“Right…” Jeralt still held half of his attention with his daughter. His voice tumbled slowly out of his mouth, just the way Rhea remembered how Jeralt spoke when he was dreading something. “…Hello.”

Rhea was puzzled by Jeralt’s tone. It didn’t seem directed at her, or Seteth, but the child. Was their relationship so strained? What had caused it? Would it keep either of them away from Garreg Mach? Without missing a beat, she recited the introduction she had been silently rehearsing. “It has been a long time, Jeralt. I wonder…was it the will of the goddess that we have another chance meeting like this?”

Jeralt deflated a little as he looked at her. “You will have to forgive my silence over the years.” He sighed, before looking over to the child. “Do you want to talk now?”

Rhea turned back to the vessel. Her green eyes were already level with Rhea’s, as if she knew where Rhea’s gaze would land beforehand. Languidly, the child turned to look at Seteth, who seemed almost unnerved when he met her stare.

“My name is Byleth.” The vessel told him. There was something in her voice that gave Rhea pause. There was an age to it, a worn edge that shouldn’t be in any twenty year old’s voice, no matter how hard their life as a mercenary was.

“Jeralt is my father.” Could this mean that the vessel had received at least some of Sothis’ memories? It was a possibility. Rhea’s mother had certainly seen many horrors. Such tragic recollections would scar anyone.

“Rhea is my grandmother.”

The words slipped out of the child’s mouth as easily as all those she had said before, but their weight forced the room into silence. Rhea looked at the child, waiting for a change in expression, some admission of a jest, for the child to continue on as if Rhea had misheard her, but the vessel’s expression remained unchanged. Beside her, Jeralt looked utterly bewildered.

Rhea looked to Seteth. His face didn’t show shock, but it wasn’t far from it. He looked from Byleth to Jeralt, before finally landing on Rhea. Whatever answer Seteth was looking for couldn’t be found on her face, so he turned back to Byleth. “What?” He asked for all three of them.

Rhea looked back at Byleth, who’s expression remained unchanged. For the first time, Rhea began to pick up on the subtleties laid bare on the child’s face. Byleth’s expression might be described as blank, but Rhea’s experienced eye could see the same age hidden in the child’s voice. Byleth might have been looking at Rhea, but the subtle glow in her eyes almost hid an almost glossed over sheen. Rhea could not say whether Byleth was looking at her, or just in her direction. Rhea had seen it in many people over the centuries. In her Wilhelm’s eyes when he realized his death had come to claim him, no matter what Seiros did to save the man. In Cichol’s when Cethleann would not wake. In her own reflection the day after she killed Nemesis and realized her mother wasn’t coming back.

“My mother was Sitri. Rhea was Sitri’s mother. Rhea is my grandmother.” Byleth remained calm as the three around her found they could do nothing but gape in shock.

After a few hour-long seconds, Rhea found her voice. “...Jeralt.” It took him a moment, but he managed to break away from his stupor and face her. “From your reaction, you have never told her about…” Rhea couldn’t find the strength to finish the question.

From Jeralt’s reaction, she wasn’t sure if he could find it in himself to hear it. “She’s been telling me things she couldn’t possibly know ever since we rescued those brats.” His voice came out slowly, placing one word after the other. “She said she was going to explain it all when you and…Seteth were around to hear.”

“You asked for me?” Seteth questioned. “And what else has she been saying?”

Byleth turned to face Seteth. “I know that you are far older then my father, who can measure his lifetime in centuries. I know the two of you have never met because you where standing vigil over something far more important then your own life.”

If Rhea could tear her eyes away from the vessel’s-no. Not the vessel. The woman standing before her was far more then that. Rhea could sense it. If Rhea could tear her eyes away from Byleth’s unchanging expression, she was certain she would have seen Seteth frozen in shock.

Long after the silence had grown unbearable, Rhea broke it. “…How do you know these things? Why are you telling us this?”

Byleth’s expression had not shifted in the long silence. Now, it softened ever so slightly as she let out a small sigh. Her voice gained a hint of levity. “I opened with things I could not possibly know so you would believe me when I told you something ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Jeralt asked.

“The answer to how I know things I cannot.” Byleth turned to address Rhea. “Before you think it, that isn’t the explanation.”

Rhea blinked, before realizing she was about to ask if Sothis had gifted her some sort of power, and held her conjecture back. “…Then what is your explanation?”

“I have lived my life more times then I can count. I have seen it go by in seconds, millennia, and everything in-between.” A brittleness crept into had seeped into Byleth’s voice, even if her eyes remained fixed, as if they were placed in her head like stained glass.

“I have explored more possibilities then I can count, and caused more then I can remember. No matter what I do, I always return to this beginning. Now, after so long, I seek its end.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time travel fics are popular for a game where a central mechanic is the ability to reverse time, no happy ending for everyone, and a new game plus feature? Who could have guessed?
> 
> I’m going to be trying to deviate from some of the more common paths (Byleth doesn’t tell anyone, for instance) but we will be treading familiar ground, right up to the point we aren’t. I’ll hope to see you there, and along the way.
> 
> Kudos as always are appreciated.


	2. Wisdom of Ages

"You have…been living your life, starting with you awakening in Remire village, again and again for…millennia, for lack of a better term. Is that what you claim?" Seteth asked for himself, Rhea, and Jeralt.

"All I know is that for some reason, no matter what I do, I always come back to Remire with my father, just before Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard arrive." Byleth voice droned, her eyes looking so very far away. "I have studied my condition for lifetimes with every expert and amateur on the planet. I have never found an explanation for why I am doomed to relive my life again and again."

Rhea could feel herself failing to school her features as she listened to the child's explanation. Had her experiment caused this? Was her mother's Crest Stone to blame? Did the other twelve-

"It's not what you think it is, Rhea." Byleth's words shook the archbishop out of her morbid reverie.

"Its not-It isn't…" Rhea stopped to breathe, suddenly feeling very faint. "You know…how do you know it isn't…" Rhea tried to finish, but her voice began to tear at the back at her throat.

"I've removed it from my body at least a hundred times, and destroyed it almost as often." Rhea froze as Byleth casually admitted to killing what remained of her mother, instantly paralyzed between gaping in horror at Byleth, and screaming the child's sacrilege out for all the world to hear. Byleth remained impassive. "It doesn't matter. I still end back here."

Rhea felt numb. As she stared at Byleth, she began to feel truly unnerved for the first time in centuries. This child, whether they had truly lived through lifetimes or not, seemed to understand exactly what Rhea had tried to say, or at very least seemed to know what exactly her body contained. Byleth had admit to destroying Sothis' Crest Stone in front of Rhea, the most powerful woman on the continent without so much as an inflection in her voice. A small part of Rhea wanted to know what could steel Byleth's nerve enough to admit such an atrocity. Another much larger part of her wanted to take the demon that admitted to killing Sothis a hundred times over by the neck and squeeze until Rhea's hands tore through flesh to wrap around Byleth's breaking bones.

A sharp cry that sounded like Seteth broke Rhea out of her trance. Taking in her surroundings, Rhea noticed that her nails were digging into her palms, and that her scales were brushing against her sleeves. She could feel her power crackling in the air around her, threatening to spill forth into the world like burning ash. Seteth had been grabbing at her arm, and was almost shouting. Jeralt placed himself in front of Byleth, preparing to shield her even as terror rushed onto his face.

"-Are you doing, you'll destroy the entire building!" Seteth pleaded. Rhea looked back at Byleth, who didn't so much as twitch as Jeralt fingers dug into Byleth's shoulder.

Rhea closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths. After a few moments wrestling her power back under her control, Rhea opened her eyes again.

"I apologize, Jeralt, Seteth." Rhea looked into both their eyes as she spoke. "As for you, child, what you just admitted…if what you say is true, you must know what you just confessed to is…" Rhea took another breath, and stared down at Byleth, who remained impassive. "There are no words to describe your crime."

"Alright, enough." Jeralt spoke up again, his hand gripping Byleth's shoulder. "I don't know what the hell to make of this…time loop, or whatever seems to be wrong with Byleth. But if I heard right, you just admitted to putting something in my daughter, and just threatened to kill her if she took it..." Jeralt's eye's widened, before franticly turning between Rhea and Byleth. "…I…Something inside her?" Jeralt's eyes almost leapt out of their sockets. "It can't be…that's what you did to her at her birth!" Anger burnt out of Jeralt as he stepped forward. "Rhea, I don't care what-"

"Dad." Byleth's voice cut through Jeralt's as she placed a hand on her father's shoulder. "Calm down. You won't get anywhere worked up like this." Her eyes met Rhea's, and the archbishop felt herself flinch. "It's fine. I haven't done anything to it in lifetimes." Byleth placed her hand over her heart, and gestured to Jeralt and Seteth."You can explain, or I will."

Rhea was taken aback. Did this child just threaten her?

"Yes, I agree." Seteth said evenly. "I for one would like an explanation for what, exactly, has everyone at each other's throats."

"I…" caught between Seteth's uncompromising stare, Jeralt's accusing glare, and worst of all, Byleth's quiet ultimatum, Rhea suddenly felt very small. "Yes. I will explain. Just…" Rhea rubbed her temples, failing to find the words. There was much pain buried in those memories, but the child had forced her hand. Seteth would not stop questioning her, and better her to tell the story then the child. "…I…give me a moment, please."

"Of course." Byleth cut in before anyone else could say something. "As much as you need."

At first Rhea was grateful for Byleth granting her a reprieve, but was afraid of what she might find in Seteth and Jeralt's stares, so her eyes wandered, before settling on the eastern wall.

Rhea tried to remember when she had the eastern office of her audience chamber blocked off. Garreg Mach's architecture was usually symmetrical. She could recall receiving briefings from Jeralt in the room not twenty-five years ago.

Ah. That was right. After the fire that had taken Byleth away from her, she had it sealed away. The graveyard had been too visible from the room's windows.

Sensing Jeralt and Seteth's impatience, Rhea exhaled, trying and failing to clear her mind. Byleth motioned to her father. Rhea's eyes almost narrowed at the presumption, but decided that she did owe Jeralt eye contact, no matter how uncomfortable the idea seemed to make her. "Inside Byleth's chest lies…a Crest Stone."

Jeralt's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent. Seteth voiced his confusion. "A Crest Stone? Why would you ever put a Crest Stone in a baby?"

Rhea's lips thinned. She bit down her revulsion, and forced herself to look Jeralt in the eye. "Byleth came out of the womb stillborn." Jeralt's head snapped towards Byleth, who met his terrified look without emotion. Jeralt opened his mouth, but no words followed. Slowly, Jeralt turned back to Rhea, his eyes growing desperate and his face a mask of horror. Byleth gave a small nod. Rhea found herself struggling to speak. The emotion was so much rawer then she expected. But she forced herself to continue.

"Sitri was dying from complications, and begged me to place the Crest Stone in Byleth's body in an attempt to save the baby's life." Jeralt squirmed at Rhea's declaration, and his face fell apart. Rhea felt something wet and hot on her fingertips as her nails dug into her hands. "…To save the child's life, I did as Sitri asked…and then I…"

Jeralt looked just like the man who had first held his child twenty years ago, pale all over and broken inside. Rhea could remember being happier then she had a right to be. She couldn't remember if the joy had stemmed from being able to save Byleth, or the elation that Sothis' Crest Stone had accepted the child's body. Now, could feel nothing but a bottomless pit in her stomach.

Out of some cruel sense of loyalty, Rhea stumbled on. "I used…the Crest Stone, I used…I…" Her throat suddenly felt like a desert, so vast and dry that no ocean could ever hope to flood. Jeralt stood, though it looked as if that simple act took all of his strength. Rhea heard the drops of her blood on her knuckles slowly fall to the floor. Through it all, Byleth stood, her face stone. Rhea could not bear to look at it anymore. She had thought that this explanation would be difficult, not the insurmountable task it had become. But as her thoughts rediscovered old memories, Rhea felt like she was drowning. She could not find the strength to meet Jeralt's haunted eyes, and would not allow herself the weakness of hiding in Seteth's. Instead, her eyes drooped to the floor, watching her blood drip.

"I took…I…" To say the words aloud was too much for her to bear. Rhea discovered that she lacked the will to continue down a path she had never tread. Slowly, her face rose to meet Jeralt's. "…You know what I'm going to say, don't you? Sitri must have told you…"

Jeralt's voice came out cracked and hollow. "She told me she was the twelfth. She told me that she always failed to meet your expectations. She told me you'd always looked down at her whenever she failed something she didn't even know how to do. I know where you got your damn stone, you bitch."

His words were not unexpected, but struck Rhea as if no harsh feelings and cold words had passed between the archbishop and her knight twenty years past. She couldn't remember ever treating Sitri cruelly. Had her twelfth truly felt so her guidance to be so cold?

Jeralt slowly ripped his attention away from Rhea, his face awash with emotion. Inevitably, sorrow consumed it as he looked at his daughter. Byleth's face had finally shifted, showing a small, precious drop of empathy to her father.

"Go." Byleth said, soft and gently, but brooked no argument. "I know where to find you."

Jeralt turned to face Rhea once more, but stopped halfway. Sharing one last look with Byleth, he walked out of the chamber, the doors slamming behind him.

The room was quiet for a few minutes more. Rhea watched as the last drops of blood fell from her hands. Byleth stood in front of her, but Rhea still couldn't look at her.

Seteth stepped forward, and Rhea's eyes darted up. The man's face was unreadable as he studied Rhea. Then Seteth let out an old, tired sigh that only someone who had lived for a thousand years could. He turned to Byleth, his question slipping through his lips like sand in an hourglass.

"I have a terrible feeling that I already know the answer, but…could you show me your Crest?"

Byleth raised her hand, and out of it formed the sigil of the Crest of Flames.

Seteth stared at it for a moment, before turning to Rhea. "I would hope you have already told yourself everything about letting the dead rest soundly I will be telling you once my shock and revulsion passes." He turned to the door, before stopping to look back at Byleth. "And I implore you to not do something so horrible to yourself or to Sothis' last remains, less I join Rhea in her anger."

"I'm long past trying something that stupid." Byleth said. Seteth watched her for a moment more, before exiting the room.

Rhea looked at Byleth, and Byleth looked back. There was a small hint of something in the child's eye. If Rhea wanted to delude herself, she might call it sympathy. A charitable interpretation might call it pity.

"I will leave you to yourself for now." Byleth said, and turned to leave. "I suggest trying to talk with my father." With that, she left, and Rhea was alone in her throne room.

Rhea raised her hands to inspect the wounds she had caused herself. They were shallow cuts, and had already healed over. The blood on her hands had dried over. It would take Rhea much care to properly wash away.

The sun was setting when Rhea finally moved to look out the window of her office. She dared to try to spot the graveyard, but couldn't. The building’s architecture would not allow it. Rhea fell back onto her chair, and closed her eyes. For the rest of the evening, Rhea thought back through the years she spent raising Sitri. She remembered teaching the girl all the rituals and sermons of the faith. She remembered guiding the child through lessons on to heal the sick, how to mend wounds and lift spirits. She remembered bringing the young woman before Sothis' throne in the hopes that her mother would spring forth from the twelfth child she had made to house her Crest Stone.

Throughout the night, Rhea tried to remember if she had ever called Sitri daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a funny thing that happens after chapter 9 in the game. Byleth asks about their mother, and Rhea stumbles over the words “your mother…she was my…” it almost sounds like she’s having to admit something to herself that hasn’t had to think about in twenty years. That was my takeaway at least. And that’s where a good bit of this chapter comes from.
> 
> Kudos as always are appreciated.


	3. On the Edge of Dawn

It was a beautiful day in Garreg Mach. The sun shone down on the bright spring grasses. Birdsong echoed in the distance, and there was not a cloud in the sky. Sitting at her classroom desk, Edelgard resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. “Ferdinand, please don’t.”

“Ah but I must, Edelgard. If we do not compete to see who is more skilled with the blade, how will we know who is more fit to lead our class in the upcoming mock battle?”

“Oh come on Ferdie. Edie just came back from being chased around the countryside by bandits, and you want to fight her?” Dorothea’s cheer had begun to strain. Edelgard could relate. Linhardt was fast asleep at his seat, and Bernadetta had ran back to her room.

“Nonsense, Dorothea! A leader must be ready for a challenge at anytime. If Edelgard cannot properly defend herself after more then a day’s rest, then there must be serious consideration about her place as our leader!”

“Why do you not be beating Ferdinand to make him shut high?” Petra asked.

Edelgard sighed. “Sometimes I wonder that too.”

“See, even Petra agrees that we should duel!” If it was possible, Edelgard could have sworn she heard Ferdinand grow even more pompous.

“Would anyone really miss this idiot if he tripped over the bridge to the cathedral?” Hubert didn’t bother to lower his voice.

Ferdinand scoffed. “Hubert, please. I know you are loyal to Edelgard, but this is important. I am to be our next prime minister, and as such, it is my duty to test-“

“Oh, lay off her Ferdinand. You’re always going on and on about Edelgard.” Casper interrupted. “I wanna know about that old knight in the orange armor and green haired girl that showed up yesterday. Those were the leaders of the mercenaries that saved you, Claude and Dimitri, right Edelgard?”

Edelgard blinked, thankful for the reprieve. “Yes, that is correct. The older knight is Jeralt, the Blade Breaker. The green haired girl is his daughter, Byleth.”

Caspar let out a whistle. “Really? The Blade Breaker himself? I heard he used to be a Knight of Seiros. Is he gonna stay and train us?”

“I don’t know. He seemed reluctant to come here in the first place. But from what I saw on the battlefield, either of them would make a formidable teacher.” Their had barely been any bandits left to flee the scene after the two mercenaries had been done with them, both cutting through the disorganized rabble with ease. Edelgard barely had to lift her axe.

“I saw the Blade Breaker this morning. He looked pretty miserable. Was he like that when you met?” Dorothea asked.

Edelgard felt her eyebrows rise. “Miserable? He seemed uninterested in coming to Garreg Mach, but I’d hardly call his demeanor miserable.”

“No, now that you mention it, I saw him last night on my way back from the stables. Miserable seemed like a good description.” Ferdinand chimed in.

Edelgard turned to Hubert, who nodded. “It’s true. I saw him leave the archbishop’s chamber in a state. He was walking towards the graveyard.”

Edelgard let out a hum. “I suppose we can guess why he left in the first place.” Jeralt’s demeanor before this revelation suggested that he had parted on bad terms with the church twenty years ago. Now it seemed even worse then just a bad argument that got heated- one way or another, Rhea was involved in the death of someone important to Jeralt. Perhaps it was Byleth’s mother, given the woman’s absence from the mercenary group. But this gave Edelgard an angle. Jeralt was a well-respected mercenary, renowned across Fódlan for his skill. Factoring in his backstory as a former knight that grew disillusioned of the church, the windfall from recruiting him could be much larger then just one former Knight of Seiros. Assuming, of course, that Edelgard could convince him to swear allegiance to her cause.

“I saw this Blade Breaker shoulder-push Sir Alois out of his walking path,” Petra said. “He is having great sadness in his heart.”

Edelgard revised her thoughts. It might be possible that Jeralt was going to leave soon. After all, he had done it once before. If she wanted to find her foothold, she would have to act fast.

“Aw, geez. That’s too bad. Poor guy.” Caspar sighed, before perking up. “At least his daughter seems much happier!”

Edelgard turned to Caspar. “Really? She seemed rather detached too me.” If she was being honest with herself, Byleth was the more intriguing of the two. She had proven rather aloof on the march back to Garreg Mach, but Edelgard would never describe Byleth’s attitude as hostile, or even anti-social. She simply answered when asked, and kept quiet. When she had asked the mercenary to join the Adrestian Empire, Byleth had simply said she ‘was not interested in a long term contract at this time,’ but Edelgard still found Byleth approachable in some strange, unexplainable way. But what Edelgard could explain was Byleth’s talent in battle. The woman very nearly danced between bandits; with such practiced grace and ease Edelgard almost thought she was watching one of Middlefrank’s grand opera’s chronicling the empire’s many past victories. The mercenary woman would undoubtedly be a valuable asset for Edelgard to realize her dream, and so she could not allow the mercenary’s deflection to be the last word on the matter.

Caspar shrugged. “Well, yeah, I guess. I saw her last night when I was leaving the training grounds, and she seemed happy enough practicing.” His eyes brightened. “She was doing some really complex techniques with her sword too! Jeritza was barely keeping up with her!”

Edelgard didn’t feel as surprised as she thought she should be. “Really? Professor Jeritza had a hard time dealing with her?”

“Yeah, he was sweating up a storm, but she barely looked winded! It almost looked like she was teaching him!” Caspar laughed. “In fact, she almost looked like Lady Rhea did during the entrance ceremony, now that I think about it.” Caspar chuckled. “It was probably low light more then anything. They don’t have the exact same hair color, after all.” Caspar’s brow furrowed. “Lady Rhea’s not Byleth’s mom, is she?”

Ferdinand scoffed loudly. “Of course not! Such a scandal would be the talk of all Fódlan, even twenty years later!”

Caspar shook his head. “Hey, you know how tight lipped our own families can be about this sort of thing. Who says Lady Rhea’s any different?”

For the first time, Linhardt’s voice drifted up from his head’s resting place on the desk. “Caspar, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Just because they have green hair means they’re related?”

Dorothea fired back. “Hey, it’s not impossible!”

Edelgard tuned out the rest of the growing argument. It hadn’t occurred to her to place Byleth as Rhea’s daughter. Now that she thought about it, there was some possibility of a relationship between the two. Byleth, like all the other ‘children of the godess’ had green hair and eyes. She also hid her ears behind her hair. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Linhardt had similar coloring after all. Still, that could make it more difficult to try and secure Byleth’s loyalty. Still, Edelgard wanted to try. There was something special about that mercenary; Edelgard could sense it in her bones.

Edelgard’s further musing were cut short when Caspar shouted out “Oh, hey! There she is!” true to his word, Edelgard saw Byleth walking out of the Reception Hall. Caspar called out to her, and she began walking towards the Black Eagles classroom.

“Thanks for coming over! We heard from Edelgard that you saved her, along with Dimitri and Claude, is that right?”

Byleth gave a small nod in confirmation, a response Edelgard had grown used to in their short time together.

Caspar went on, unphased by Byleth’s quiet demeanor. “That’s great! But hey, listen. Me and my classmates were having this argument, Do you know if you’re Lady Rh-MMPPPPHH!”

Linhardt had reached up and slammed his hand over Caspar’s mouth. “Do you have any tact at all?”

“Gentlemen, please.” Ferdinand said as he puffed out his chest. “Hello, miss Eisner. My name is Ferdinand von Aegir, son of the Prime Minister of the Adrestian Empire. No doubt you have heard of me.”

Byleth nodded her head. “Second to the Imperial household. An important family to know.” To Edelgard’s annoyance, this seemed encourage Ferdinand.

“It is good to see my family’s name carries the weight it deserves! If you are planning to stay here, I must let you know that Edelgard and I are currently competing against each other to prove who is better fit to lead our empire in the years to come. I do not mean to brag, but you would do well to learn my name for future reference. If what Edelgard says is true, I would be happy to hire you and your father in the future.”

Byleth stared for a moment. “This rivalry…”

Ferdinand’s eyes shone. “Yes?”

“It’s because she is a girl, isn’t it?”

Silence smothered the Black Eagles classroom. Edelgard nearly burst out laughing as she saw Ferdinand’s face shift from pompous confidence, too confused squinting, before finally settling on dawning horror.

“N-no! No, of course not, I am merely testing her ability to lead, I would never-“

“I heard that excuse from conductors, directors, male leads…” Dorothea said, a subtle edge entering her voice.

“Dorothea, please, this is a bit more important then a play…”

“Financiers, composers, the help…”

“I had much talks the same as this from Empire nobles.”

“Petra, please, not you too!”

As Ferdinand tried to defend himself from the rest of the class, Byleth did something unexpected. Catching Hubert’s eye, she mouthed ‘ _us three, talk alone. Now, here, good.’_ Hubert raised a brow, before turning to Edelgard, silently asking for her approval. Edelgard turned back to study Byleth for a moment, before nodding to Hubert. Edelgard wasn’t sure what to make of the woman’s sudden interest in talking, but she wouldn’t turn the chance down.

Hubert leaned over and whispered something in Dorothea’s ear. Her annoyed expression melted into a smirk as she whispered back. Hubert huffed, but gave a nod. Dorothea began to strut towards the classroom’s doors.

“Come on Petra, let’s go. Ferdi’s is blowing out to much hot air for my taste.”

“The wind isn’t so hot, but I am not in disagreement. What about Edelgard?” Petra said as she followed after Dorothea. Ferdinand walked after them.

“Oh, Hubie said they have things to do. Empire business and all that.”

“Dorothea, Petra, please, if you’d just let me explain-“

“You can try again after buying us dinner from across the hall, Ferdi.” Dorothea stopped to hook Linhardt and Caspar’s arms with her own. “And we’ll be taking the real, noble gentlemen who know how to speak properly to ladies away from your braying.”

“Well, the classroom has gotten rather noisy…”

“But we didn’t say anything!”

“Exactly~”

“Everyone, wait! It’s important to test Edelgard’s leadership now so she isn’t found wanting- please, let me explain!”

Byleth had been quietly inspecting the windows as the students hurried out of the class, doing nothing to stop Hubert from mimicking her. After inspecting each window, Byleth stood beside a window far from the room’s entrance. Magic flared to life in her hand. “A silence spell, to keep your mind at ease.”

“My mind at ease? What do you mean?”

Byleth’s face remained as still as it had in Edelgard’s memory. “You are planning to start a war against the church that will drag the entire continent into bloody conflict.”

Edelgard would have gaped, but she was too shocked for even that. At Byleth’s side, Hubert nearly tripped, before hissing out a denial.

“What nonsense are you blabbering? What madhouse did this delusion escape from?” Hubert spat. Edelgard forced herself to steady.

“I must agree with Hubert-What on earth could possess you to make such a baseless accusation?”

Byleth showed no reaction. “You do not have one Crest, but two. Hiring bandits to do your dirty work is unbecoming.” Her eyes swept through the air like a scythe through wheat, landing on Hubert, who had been quietly moving behind Byleth. “You chased after Edelgard when she was taken to the kingdom. It took your father’s men three days to pin you down.” Byleth paused, before adding “If you kill me here, you will inevitably be discovered as the murderer. Your station as the heir of Vestra will not save you.”

Edelgard could not remember Hubert ever looking totally confounded. She would have stopped to gape, but the years spent with her uncle had taught her to never let silence linger. “How, exactly, did you come up with any of this…nonsense? And assuming these…wild accusations are true, what do you plan to do?”

“I’ve been reliving my life, over and over again. This is not the first time we’ve had this conversation. I’ve seen the war to its conclusion, in one way or another, more times then I care to count.” Byleth paused. Edelgard glanced at Hubert, who had regained his footing, but looked as lost as Edelgard felt. “At the moment, I plan to do nothing to stop the war.”

Edelgard felt a small spark of hope in her heart. “You don’t plan to oppose me? Does that mean…you are here to fight for me?”

“No.”

“But you just said you weren’t planning to stop the war.”

“I don’t plan to do anything to stop the war because I can’t do anything to stop it. I’m just a mercenary.” Edelgard noticed how emotionless Byleth had been over the past few days, and wondered why that hadn’t bothered her. “You are heir apparent to the Imperial throne, and the one who will give the order to start the war. You are the only person who can stop this war from coming.”

A vortex of emotions churned through Edelgard as she stared at Byleth. This woman somehow knew everything about her. Doing whatever she could to ensure her loyalty, or at very least her cooperation, had gone from something Edelgard had fancied to the highest priority.

The words left Edelgard’s mouth with a slow deliberation. “You claim to know me, what I plan to do.” Byleth nodded. “Then you must know what I’m fighting for. Everything I’m fighting against.” Byleth nodded again. “Do you know what they have done?”

“I know.”

“Then you know that a war must come. To see Fódlan change, they must be removed from power. I ask of you, join my cause, and fight for a better world, free of their lies.”

“No.”

Edelgard felt her eyes narrow, but not in anger. Instead, she felt almost like she did when Hubert very rarely called her wrong. Her retainer was looking at her oddly, as if he was confused by her reaction.

“Why do you refuse?”

“Lots of reasons.” Byleth let out a sigh. “You are wrong about many things. About how much certain people want to hold onto power. About how unwilling other people would be to listen. About how trustworthy others are. Most of all, I have long since grown tired of war.”

“Who are you planning on telling this? What is your goal?” Hubert demanded.

“I don’t intend to tell anyone about your plans.” Byleth said. For the first time, Edelgard heard a tiredness enter Byleth’s voice. “I want to end my own cycle of death and rebirth. That’s it.”

“And convincing me to stop a war helps you do that?”

“It’s worth trying.”

Edelgard felt a stone sink in her gut. “I will not simply abandon my course because you ask me to.”

“That is expected. Reasonable.” Byleth said. “I will remain at Garreg Mach for a year. You will have more questions for me. I will answer some of them. For now, I will leave you two to your thoughts.”

Byleth turned, silently opening the window, before climbing out of it. Edelgard would have questioned her exit, but that was the least concerning thing she had seen from the woman.

“Wait!” Edelgard called out, unsure why she did so.

Byleth paused her exit, turning her head back to listen. Edelgard forced herself to ask something.

“Do…do I win?”

Byleth looked at her for a moment, before responding. “Sometimes. Many times you fail. Other times everything you worked for is swept away by your successor, because giving absolute power to one person after wiping away all resistance sets a very poor precedent.” Edelgard could swear she Byleth’s eyes linger at something on her face. “Sometimes you take my advice, don’t start a war, and get almost everything you wanted anyway.” With that, Byleth exited the window, quietly shutting it behind her.

Hubert spun on his heels, hissing at her. “What in the world is wrong with you?”

Edelgard blinked, utterly confused. “What?”

“This…this charlatan soothsayer, who knows far to much for her own good, spills our secrets like they are so much mud on her boots, and instead of ordering me to take her head when she refuses to cooperate, you look like a lovesick child who just learned rejection!”

Edelgard’s eyes widened as she remembered Hubert’s reaction. “I…did. Why…” Edelgard recalled Byleth casting a silencing spell before speaking to them. How could she be certain it wasn’t something else? She was intrigued by Byleth, but the more Edelgard thought about it, the more she thought how almost irrational her interest seemed. ”It’s not a crush, I will tell you that. Something else is at work, something sinister. Hubert, check for some magic she cast on me.”

“At once, Lady Edelgard.” Hubert’s hands burst to life with magic, and before long, his eyes narrowed in frustration. “Nothing. Perhaps it is some kind of subtle enchantment.”

“I’m not sure. If she could do it to me, why would she not also cast it on you?”

Hubert tisked. “We should just kill her and wash our hands of this nonsense.”

Edelgard fought down a feeling of revulsion. “We shouldn’t act so rashly. Lets cool our head, and try to figure out what we can. If what Byleth says is true, we will have many months to try and extract something out of her.”

Edelgard could feel Hubert simmer, before finally nodding. “Yes, you are right. But just in case, I will be revising our emergency escape plan.”

Edelgard sighed. She had thought her school year would be exceptionally difficult, but now she had to contend with a woman who knew her every move, quite possibly before Edelgard herself did. On top of that, she had to contend with strange, alien feelings telling her to trust this mysterious woman. Whatever the strangeness, she needed to clear her head.

“Hubert, did you really chase after me when I was taken to Faerghus?”

Her retainer shifted. “I did.”

“…We will uncover what Byleth is doing to my mind. For now, lets focus on what is in our control.” Edelgard paused, before her eyes widened. "When I see Byleth...It feels like I'm trying to remember something. The experiment made the memory of my childhood foggy at best. I can't remember meeting you for the first time..."

Hubert's eyes narrowed. "I will investigate. Quietly."

* * *

Adjacent to the window, hidden by the shade of well-trimmed bushes, Byleth opened her eyes, hearing the last of Hubert’s steps echo across the floor. Her attention shifted to the man she had pinned to the ground.

Claude let out a nervous chuckle. “Hey friend,” the heir or Riegan’s usual easy going smile strained under the pressure, but held firm. “Heard any good gossip lately?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that weird thing Edelgard does in the game where she always wishes you were on her side and even gets week in the knees for Byleth at the end of Blue Lions despite holding maybe three conversations with the blank slate? What’s say we use that for more then what we all know it’s actually there for, yes?
> 
> Not sure if anyone’s done the bit with Ferdinand. Surprised that shoe never dropped in game. Well, I’m dropping it here.
> 
> Next is Claude. Aiming for Sunday release. Until then.
> 
> As always, Kudo's are appreciated.


	4. Winds of Change

“You’ll have to forgive my eavesdropping, it’s a terribly useful habit I picked up over the years.” Claude dusted off his coat as he rose from the ground. “But I couldn’t help but overhear that apparently her imperial highness is planning to start a war.”

“Against the Church, if you recall.” Byleth said.

“And a few others, if I heard right. I’m sure the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus will be ecstatic to hear the news. And I’m sure her highness will take the time to explain to all the lords of the Alliance that attacking the Church that they’ve known all their life is for their own good. Not to mention her inevitable demands to move troops through Alliance territory, which will in no way be a takeover of my poor little country.” Claude paused to look around the courtyard for any witnesses.

“My magic still blocks the ears of whomever I do not wish to hear.” Byleth walked to a nearby bench, sitting down under the midday sun.

Claude followed hesitantly. “And who’s the whomever you want to hear our little chat? Dimitri? Lady Rhea?”

“Both of them would act rashly, and start the war themselves if I did.” Byleth’s expression was glassy and distant, as if she were discussing the weather. “Telling them now would be counterproductive to stopping the war.”

“Yeah, message received.” Claude said. “But really, who else have you decided to let listen in on our little chat? There’s a whole monastery worth of people who’d be quite interested to listen in on us, and you’ve only told me not to mention this whole mess to two people.”

Claude saw the faintest hint of a smirk. “No one else is listening to us. I promise.”

Claude studied her. Deciding that this was the most assurance he was going to get, Claude elected to play along. “So. Care to share any of my secrets to prove you know me better than I do?”

“Almyra.”

Claude blinked. Byleth looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She was daring him too respond.

Well, Claude knew better then to leave a lady waiting. “…That’s it? You spill Edelgard and Hubert’s darkest secrets at their feet, spell out what they plan to do for the next decade, all while telling them everything they are fighting for isn’t worth it, and you just give me one word?”

Byleth cocked her brow. “Do you want me to say anything else?”

“…Yeah, I guess not.” Claude sighed, letting himself calm down before continuing. “Maybe I’m going crazy. Maybe this is all in my head. Maybe I was killed by bandits and this last week was one long fever dream.”

“Maybe.”

Claude groaned. “And wondering about this won’t get me anywhere. Fine, I’ll play.” One way or another, this was going to get messy. Claude supposed he might as well dive headfirst. “This might seem to brutal for my taste, but were talking about a war, so I can’t exactly play nice. Why not just kill Edelgard and be done with it? Your little chat made it seem like she’s going to start the war all by herself.”

“This conflict has been brewing for far longer then she has been Imperial heir. Many important politicians want it to happen for one reason or another. Within the empire, the gears of war are already turning.” Byleth said as she watched a butterfly dance on the gentle spring breeze, darting between well-groomed flowers. “If Edelgard were to die now, the war would still come, sooner or later. The easiest way to stop the war is to convince Edelgard to stop it.”

“You seem quite certain of that.”

“I am.”

“And the various parties that also want the war? They’ll just lay over and accept this hypothetical peace?”

“A certain level of internal struggle will be inevitable. Though you would agree that a smaller conflict would be better for everyone.”

“…Are you going to make a habit of telling me what I think?” Claude asked.

The smirk almost returned to Byleth’s lips. “My hobbies have grown eclectic.”

Claude wasn’t convinced, but then again, he wasn’t sure he was convinced about anything he’d heard in the past half hour. “And what am I supposed to do with this knowledge? Am I supposed to fight Edelgard to a duel to take control of the Empire? Should I bring her sweets and flowers until she falls madly in love with me and can’t be bothered to start a fight? You’ve dropped this problem at my feet, and I barely even know where to start.”

“For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always remained resourceful. When given no pre-warning, you’ve managed to turn this very problem into a resounding victory.” Byleth looked into Claude’s eyes. “You don’t always get everything, but you often get enough.”

“Pretty words.” Claude said. “It doesn’t sound much different from what you told Edelgard, and still hopelessly vague.”

“Would you like me to dictate a letter for Count Riegan and Lady Judith for you?” Byleth asked. “I can all but guarantee they will react the way you want them too.”

Claude looked at her oddly. “You want to bring the old man in on this?”

“Both are your natural allies in the Alliance. Count Riegan is intent on keeping his legacy intact. Lady Judith has fought for the Alliance before. She will again.”

Claude huffed out a laugh. “Really? That’s your plan? Convince five men who are all various shades of greedy, cantankerous and petty, to join forces against a threat that one of their grandkids overheard at school? I’ve only had the displeasure of hearing them argue together twice and already your plan is bordering on impossible. This is, of course, assuming I can find solid evidence of the brewing war in the first place.” He turned to Byleth, arms crossed under his chest. “Just because Judith ‘likes’ me doesn’t mean she’ll just come running to my aid if I say something this crazy. I may not know the old man well, but I know him enough to say that he’d call me mad if I came to him saying I knew a war was coming because I overheard some mercenary gossiping.”

“With the Imperial princess.” Byleth said. “Evidence doesn’t have to be absolute. All it needs is enough weight to make the lords look into things to confirm it themselves. At this point, the far-fetched nature of your report works in our favor. No matter how much evidence there is to the contrary, Alliance Lords earn their place at the table with their wits. All of the Roundtable won’t be able to dismiss their suspicions if you tell them you overheard it from Edelgard of all people. Truth is stranger than fiction.”

“Yeah, about Edelgard.” Claude said. “What exactly does she want? Why start a war?”

“She believes that the Church has too much power, and enforces the Crest system that unfairly keeps people without Crests away from power they deserve.”

“And the nobles? Last I checked, they had plenty to do with keeping the Crest system around.”

“She plans to strip those who don’t deserve their power and establish a meritocracy.”

“Just strip the titles they’ve been raised from birth to believe they deserve, huh.” Claude sighed. “That sounds like a logistical nightmare.”

“You disagree?” Byleth asked.

Claude looked at her flatly. “You already know the answer to that.”

Byleth gave a short, almost mocking nod. “I do.”

Claude rolled his eyes. “You seem to be planning to steer Edelgard away from this whole war idea, so what’s the point of going through all the trouble of alerting the Roundtable in the first place?”

Byleth gave a small huff. “My memory is vast, but it does not encompass everything. Many small details are lost to me. I may be able to convince Edelgard to stop. But sometimes she refuses to budge.”

“And it’s better to be prepared if the worst comes. Right, I get that.” Claude said. He already felt his brow furrowed as he tried to grasp the situation he’d stumbled into. “And if you are successful in turning Edelgard, I suppose no one will be able to hide a power struggle on par with the insurrection of the seven. So then I won’t be the idiot grandson looking to make a name for himself over a false alarm.” Claude raised his eyebrow, rising form his seat and looking Byleth dead in the eye. “Right, friend?”

Byleth met his stare. “Exactly right.”

Claude sighed, massaging his temples. “I suppose I’ll take that as seriously as the rest of this conversation. I need to go think about…everything.”

Claude turned to leave, before stopping. “I almost forgot. I don’t have much experience with crests, but something tells me having two isn’t something that’s normal…or even possible.”

Byleth stood up. “House Ordelia has some experience on the subject.” With that, she walked past Claude, disappearing into Garreg Mach’s hallways. Claude watched her leave, before doing his best impression of a casual stroll towards his own room.

Claude wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to do with all the information that Byleth had dropped at his feet. She had made it sound so easy, but this was, at best, a problem he would have to convince the Roundtable to acknowledge, somehow make all five of the bastards agree to a untied front, only to watch the Empire repeat it’s decade old internal turmoil. He could already hear his ears ringing from their inevitable complaining and posturing once the lords learn that they wouldn’t get to prove their valor on the battlefield, or whatever nonsense they would whine to him about.

Further complicating matters was that Byleth had said that the war would start with or without Edelgard, but had also prophesied that the princess would be the one to start the war. Crossing up the stairs, Claude’s thought’s drifted towards assassination. It wasn’t his style, but if there was a chance that one death could stop a war before it began, Claude would do well to swallow his pride. If Edelgard died, the empire would be heirless, and that would probably throw the war plans into chaos. Both Byleth and Edelgard had insinuated that the imperial princess would at very least be an important figurehead for the Adrestian armies. But even putting aside Byleth’s predictions, an assassination at Garreg Mach, and on the heir to the imperial throne of all people, would be extremely risky at best. There would be countless factors Claude would have to juggle if he hoped to get away with a crime that serious. Not to mention what would happen to Claude if the assassination was ever connected back to him.

Claude suddenly regretted making himself known as the local poison master.

Still, It was early in the year, and there was plenty of time for things to develop. The assassination idea would be shelved, at least for now.

Claude entered his room, slammed the door shut, and collapsed on top of his bed. He hated to admit it, but Claude didn’t have any easy path forward. He would have to play this slow. Byleth had mentioned that Judith and Count Riegan would be good places to start, which was true. Count Riegan was blood, which might count for something, and head of the Alliance. Getting the old man on board would do wonders for his credibility. And even if Judith had been kicked out of the roundtable, she still held quite a bit of sway as a hero to lords and the common man alike.

That left four other houses to convince. Claude knew Lorenz made a show of being pious, so perhaps Count Gloucester was the same. If he could prove that Edelgard was out for the church, it might sway the man. Claude didn’t have much of a read on Margrave Edmund, but could probably probe Marianne for information. Byleth had given him a tantalizing bit of potential blackmail on Ordelia, but he still wasn’t sure what to make of someone having two Crests, and what exactly that meant. It would be best to play clueless student asking Hannemen strange hypotheticals, as well as prod Lysithia for anything she might know.

Goneril’s major objective was to keep the border with Almyra secure, and a war to the south would be bad for that business. If he could convince them that the war was coming before anything major started, House Goneril would likely work to end the threat of the Empire quickly, so they would not have to turn their backs on the Fódlan’s Throat, or so Claude hoped. He could only pray that Hilda’s laziness wasn’t hereditary.

Then there was the Church and Kingdom to think of. How much should he tell them? Byleth had mentioned Dimitri was unstable, but his classmate wasn’t in charge of anything yet, and other, cooler heads were present in the Blaiddyd court. And even if Claude didn’t like Rhea or her Church, there was no denying many of his classmates and soon to be subjects did. Should he let them dangle in the wind, or offer what he had for future favors, as well as help in accomplishing his own dream?

But before Claude tried to work his way into the heart’s and minds of the other houses, it really was in his best interest to convince his grandfather. Claude pinched himself, and when his surroundings failed to change, decided that even if he was lying in bed, he had not been dreaming the past hour. Claude sighed.

He’d come to Garreg Mach to secure what power he could to bring his dream into reality. Playing politics with the Alliance lords this early on in his life had not been part of his plan. Still, not everything about the situation he’d been conscripted to was bad. Even if Byleth succeeded in turning Edelgard, getting the credit for making sure the Alliance wasn’t caught by a surprise attack would be a huge boon.

Claude rose from his bed, and set to work. No matter what Byleth said would happen, Claude wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip. He’d get something out of this situation. No matter what the world threw at him, Claude would see his dream become a reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a theme week with these two, right?
> 
> And then Byleth slammed open Claude’s door, threw him onto his bed, and then they made sweet, passionate love, uniting Almyra and Fódlan. At the wedding, Edelgard was maid of honor, and Dimitri best man. They both wept after Byleth, lamenting the one who got away. Rhea stared on in bewilderment through the entire event.
> 
> In the past. And possibly the future.
> 
> Not sure why I bothered to give a date last chapter, my apologies. From here on, I’ll make sure your flying as blind as me. In all seriousness though, expect one chapter every two weeks or so.
> 
> Expect something a bit lighter next time, and a bit of a break from Byleth telling characters things we already know. The next few chapters will have a bit more forward motion I hope.
> 
> Almost at 1000 hits. Thanks everyone!
> 
> As always, Kudos are appreciated.


	5. The Task at Hand

“-You promised to keep me informed after Tailtean, and now I find you have been trying to resurrect Sothis for centuries, behind my back?” Seteth hissed out. Even behind the closed doors of Rhea’s office, it would not be wise to test the soundproofing, no matter how much Seteth wanted to. Sitting across the table from him, Rhea’s expression remained frustratingly neutral.

“How many times these past thousand years did you summon me from my vigil? How many times did you neglect to mention this experiment of yours?” Seteth pressed. “Why did you never tell me something this important?” Seteth could see something hiding behind Rhea’s façade. He hoped it was guilt. “When did you stop trusting me?”

Seteth let his words simmer. Rhea bad habit of refusing to answer his questions had only gotten worse as the years had slipped past. “Rhea, I demand an answer.”

“I did what I thought was right. I always did.” Rhea muttered.

“IT WASN’T!” Seteth shouted as he slammed his hands down on the table. Rhea nearly jumped out of her seat. “You sound like the Agarthans when they rebuffed Sothis’ warning of price their magic would reap!”

“This has nothing to do with those atrocities!” Rhea spat out. “I would never sacrifice hundreds upon thousands like they did. There are a thousand different ways this isn’t remotely comparable to the _abominations_ the Agrathans unleashed. How can you dare to accuse me of such…depravity?”

Seteth took a deep breath, before rubbing his temples. “Yes, you are correct. Calling your experiments necromancy was a bridge to far. I apologize.” Seteth looked Rhea in the eye. “But that was not my point. You have been keeping things from me.” He leaned on the edge of his seat. “Important things. Nigh-futile efforts. You seem indifferent to the potential consequences. For centuries, at the very least.”

Rhea’s eyes smoldered, but she sighed. “Yes, I apologize.”

Seteth stood. “From now on, you will not hide anything from me.”

“Yes.”

Seteth felt his stare begin to soften, and forced it to remain firm. “You should have let her rest in peace.” Rhea didn’t say anything. Seteth placed a hand on her shoulder for a moment, before leaving Rhea to her thoughts.

In Rhea’s audience chamber, Seteth saw Flayn pretending to be conspicuous at the opposite end of the room.

“Flayn!” Seteth called out. His daughter turned far too quickly for her to be innocent.

“Hello, Brother! How are you this fine afternoon?” Her voice sounded stiff, like she did when she wanted to hide something.

“How many times must I tell you not to eavesdrop?” Seteth asked. Flayn fidgeted.

“Brother, you never tell me anything important! Of course I’m going to listen in!”

Seteth sighed, “I don’t tell you things that you don’t need to know because-“ the shadow’s on the floor caught Seteth’s attention. His one sided talk with Rhea had taken longer then he had expected. ”Never mind that. We will discuss this later. I have an important meeting to prepare for.”

Ignoring Flayn’s protests, Seteth stalked down the hall to his office. “I will see you promptly at dinner!” as he shut his own office door, Seteth thought he heard a creak coming form Rhea’s office, but paid it no mind.

* * *

As it turned out, Byleth and Jeralt had shown up late enough for Seteth to arrange himself professionally before the two entered his office. Jeralt looked haggard, with sleepless eyes and an unsteady posture. Byleth looked exactly like she did when Seteth had first laid eyes on her.

Seteth spoke to Jeralt first. “Before anything happens, I would like to give you my deepest sympathies. The loss of a loved one is a terrible scar to reopen.”

Jeralt gave a stiff nod. Seteth returned to gesture.

“If you need more time to yourself and with your daughter, I can reschedule-“

“No.” Jeralt’s voice was laced with exhaustion that he did not bother to hide. “It’s fine. Let’s settle whatever business we need to.”

“As you wish.” Seteth kept his voice clipped but professional. “Your daughter has told me that she intends to stay at Garreg Mach for at least a year. We are…” Seteth paused to look at Byleth, who remained expressionless. Seteth did not let how unnerved it made him feel show.

“Well. I will not lie and say happy, but we are at very least obligated to pay her handsomely for any and all services rendered. As for yourself, I do not mean to press, but will you and the rest of your company be leaving?”

“No, I’ll stay.” Jeralt said. “I’ve avoided Garreg Mach for long enough. I was preparing to linger for a while when we marched here from Remiere, and that hasn’t changed.” Jeralt paused to rub the weariness from his eyes. “My company will take whatever jobs you hand out.”

“I see.” Seteth picked up a few papers, signed them, and handed the loose collection to Jeralt for inspection. “The contracts. You should find them to be standard issue. I’ll leave them to you for inspection.” Seteth turned to Byleth next. “Will you be joining your father, or do you have other plans? If it involves the church’s affairs, or any more secrets, I must insist that you tell me.”

“No,” Byleth said. “None of your secrets. But I would involve myself with Garreg Mach.”

“How so?” Seteth felt himself inch forward.

“It would be best if I take up a teaching position.”

Seteth blinked. After a few seconds, he looked to Jeralt, who shrugged. Turning back to Byleth, he asked: “You want…to teach?”

“If I didn’t interrupt yesterday’s meeting, Rhea would have offered me a position as the head of any of the three houses.”

Seteth worked his jaw, before pressing his lips into a thin line. “Just like that? She would have given you selection over an entire year of students, who all happen to be heirs to almost every major house or bloodline in Fódlan and beyond? You, a mercenary barely twenty years old?”

Seteth caught the hint of an upward twitch on Byleth’s mouth. “Just like that.”

“I-But-That is…”Seteth began to speak, but paused, before leaning his head down and rubbing his temples. “…Knowing who you are now, and what exactly Rhea hopes of you, that does make some sense, I suppose.” Seteth looked up again. “And none of the students complained in your…previous lives?”

“I am perplexingly good at whatever job is given to me.” Byleth said.

Seteth huffed. “If that is the case, which house would you like to lead?”

“None of them.”

Seteth felt his lack of sleep start to catch up. He wondered if it showed on his face. Byleth was unreadable, and Jeralt was too exhausted himself to notice. “And why not?”

“It unduly prejudices the students to me, among other things. It would be best if I were to remain a combat instructor.”

“I see.” Seteth tapped his fingers on the desk. “That is…acceptable.” Seteth rose from his seat and retrieved a few papers from his cabinet, before handing them to Byleth. “But you also remind me of a new problem. We lack three experienced professors to act as house leaders. Our other professor ran off from the battle you two stumbled into, and we have not heard from him since.” Seteth raised an eyebrow at Byleth. “Such conduct is utterly unacceptable, and even if he bothered to show his face, we would dismiss him. Who would we ask to replace him if not you? Classes are beginning soon, and this is very short notice.”

“Would you believe me if I told you it was Jeritza?”

“Please, do not joke about this.” Seteth’s eyes narrowed. “I have had to discipline the man twice since he came to us. Professor Jeritza is skilled enough in combat to overcome his crippling inability to conduct himself as a professor should, if just barely. The duties of a house leader are far more emotionally complex then that man has the… _temperament_ for.” Seteth loosened the grip on his chair when he noticed it had begun to crack. “The only people who would recommend him to lead a classroom setting are brash youths who think they are here to learn how to fight and nothing else, parents who hate their children, and sadists.”

Byleth’s mouth twitched. “Alois wouldn’t be bad.”

Seteth hummed. “Alois? I suppose he could…He doesn’t have the wrong disposition, is personable enough to handle any problems the students might bring to him, and is skilled and experienced enough on the battlefield to oversee personal combat and officer training…Though his inability to wield magic does present a minor problem. Still, he is a more than adequate choice.”

Seteth darted back to his selves to retrieve a few more papers. “I suppose Jeralt and his men can easily perform Alois’ work as a knight. Assuming, of course, he accepts.”

Seteth walked behind his desk, seeing that Byleth had already signed her paperwork. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss at this time?”

Jeralt looked to Byleth, who shook her head.

“Well, then our business for the day is concluded.” Seteth sat down, before looking at Byleth. “I have questions. But I also have to manage Garreg Mach, and this term as already proving complicated. I trust there are no pressing issues I would need to know about?”

“Everything I could tell you isn’t urgent. The information’s delivery can be spread out across the coming weeks.”

Seteth gave a curt nod. “Good. Though to be honest, I’m not sure how to approach any of this…time loop nonsense. I barely believe it myself.”

“Neither do I, and I have to live it.”

Seteth studied Byleth for a moment. It truly was eerie how little she emoted. A glance from Jeralt told him that even exhausted, the woman’s father felt the same.

“…Well. For now, I have just one request for you.” Seteth said looking at Jeralt.

“What.” Jeralt said flatly.

“Get some rest.” Seteth wondered how many times he’d heard the same words come from countless people in centuries past. “No matter what you think, your lack of sleep will do no favors for the fallen.” Jeralt looked like was about to say something, but Seteth cut the weary man off before his excuses could come tumbling out.

“Trust me on this. I have lost my wife before. This state of yours will do no one any good.”

Jeralt seemed ready to argue, but Byleth tugged his arm. “He’s right dad.” A flicker of emotion passed over her face. “Mom will still be here when you wake up.”

Jeralt seemed to fight back tears, but nodded. As Seteth watched father and daughter walk away together, he felt something old tug at his heart.

* * *

Hanneman jumped up from his seat. He was expecting a visitor, but he had been so focused on preparing his Crest Analyzer that he had lost track of himself. Quickly shuffling to his door, he found Byleth waiting for him.

“Hello, Byleth. Was your forecast correct? Are you on a tenure track now?”

“Yes. Seteth signed the paperwork an hour ago. I will be a combat instructor.”

“Well, if that is true, it’s yet another correct mark for your tally of predictions. Up to twelve since you introduced yourself last night. Congratulations are in order, Professor.” Byleth’s entrance into Hanneman’s life had been sudden, shaking the very foundations of his stable routine. To find the first recorded instance of the Crest of Flames in millennia was one thing, but to have it’s barer know intimate details of his unpublished work and claim to have knowledge of the future with predictions and personal secrets to back it up was almost to much for Hanneman’s heart.

“Well, I have thought of a few more questions since we last spoke, if you don’t mind. How exactly does your Crest stabilize the fields of magical aftereffects and Crestological-“

“Before we begin that conversation, I have a small request of my own.” Byleth said as she reached into her pocket, pulling out a piece of paper, which she handed to Hanneman. Written inside the note was a small list of seemingly unrelated ingredients. Some herbs, both magical and medicinal in nature, a small assortment of ingredients one could find at an apothecary, and a few odd minerals.

“Northern Sreng drought root, southwestern Adrestian zinc mixture, blue Morfis bean crop…” Hanneman muttered as he looked up and down the list. “What are these all for? I can’t see much of a connection between all of these ingredients.”

“They will be used to make a potion that can remove artificial Crests, among other things.” Byleth said.

Hanneman’s eyes snapped up. “What? Preposterous, utterly preposterous! I’m not sure I can count the ways that sentence is ridiculous! Even if we are to take your words at face value, some of these ingredients are incredibly rare, and-wait.” Hanneman looked over the list again, his mind racing furiously. “Almyran poppy seeds? Brigid lotus fruit? These are Illegal, and dangerously addictive!”

Byleth cocked her head. “To get those ingredients, you will have to catch the merchant who isn’t from Sreng in the marketplace. Her wagon has broken down in the alleyway just behind the blacksmith’s shop, and will be there for the next hour while she gets it repaired.”

Hanneman threw the list down at Byleth’s feet. “I will have you know, _Professor_ , that I may not be the most observant man around, be you will not use me as some unwitting mule for your drug deals!”

Byleth turned towards his shelves, picking up a piece of Umbral Steel he had collected.

“Professor! I demand you put that down, it is a valuable research material! I will not have you trample through my office, nor will I stand for this disrespect of my intelligence or my position! I demand-“

Magic swirled in Byleth’s hands, rushing from the air into the Umbral Steel. The metal slowly bent, twisting itself into a smooth, spherical shape that fit in the palm of Byleth’s hand. Hanneman stared in awe and confusion.

“You must discard the burden of what you think is possible.” Byleth stretched out her hand, holding the small trinket out for her confounded colleague to take. The sphere was cool to the touch, and as Hanneman examined it, he discovered that etched on sphere’s surface was the Crest of Indech.

As his fingers traced across the indentations, Hanneman felt something emanating from the metal. It was a magic that felt strange, but at the same time all too familiar. A sensation like swimming through a river enveloped his body, his limbs suddenly ready to flow swift like the rapids of the Airmid. Hanneman concentrated harder, feeling the answer at the tip of his tongue.

Finally, the answer came to him. His eyes shot open. “T-this…” Hanneman felt weak in the knees. He had spent decades trying to discover a breakthrough of this magnitude, only to have it handed to him on a silver platter. “T-this is a Crest…like an amulet that gives someone more magical power, but instead, this tiny miracle grants a Crest! If I am correct, it will give it’s power to anyone, regardless of whether they have a Crest of their own or not!”

Hanneman panted out a few shallow breaths. He had barely spoken a sentence, but his excitement made it feel like those few short words were an entire thesis dissertation. “Do you know what this means? For my research? For the world? Can you make more? How did you make it? Can anyone with adequate material and magical ability create one of these…what should we call them? Signs of the Saints, perhaps? Can you only create a Sign of Indech, or can you make other crests?”

Byleth did not react to Hanneman’s barrage of questions. “The vendor will be leaving Garreg Mach in forty-seven minutes. At this hour, it should take you thirty-two to reach her if you run.”

Hanneman stared uncomprehendingly at Byleth, knuckles white as his fingers greedily clutched the Sign. Byleth stared back, unblinking.

The next thing Hanneman knew, his feet were pounding against the pavement faster then his own heartbeat. He ducked, weaved, and then pushed and shoved his way through the monastery’s evening traffic, intent on purchasing dangerous, illegal, and addictive narcotics spitting distance away from the young, impressionable minds of Fódlan’s next generation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ran through the gambit of moods on this one-super serious for real at the top, to Byleth and Hanneman go to White Castle at the end. Still, we’ve established a fair bit. Also, were gonna use a few more of those New Game Plus features, just you wait. Not all of them mind you, but I got something cooking. But yeah, no Dimitri this time. He’ll show up sooner or later, you just have to give it a bit more time.
> 
> I had two versions of the Jeritza bit planned out. Here’s the one I didn’t go with:
> 
> Byleth: Hey Jeritza!
> 
> Jeritza: What.
> 
> Byleth: Do you want to be a house leader? You’d be able to have full control over an entire house’s training regiment.
> 
> Jeritza: I-
> 
> Byleth: You’d also have to listen to the student’s problems, help them deal with their doubts and fears, console them when they feel sad, spend hours every day of the week answering their questions, spend just as many hours going over paperwork, talk to their parents at PTA meetings without threatening to kill them or follow through with a previous threat to kill-
> 
> Jeritza: you lost me at hey.
> 
> Did some editing on previous chapters, mostly fixing a few messy sentences, also made a few details a bit clearer.
> 
> Broke through 1000 views last chapter, and nearly at 100 Kudos! Thanks everyone!
> 
> As always, Kudos are appreciated.


	6. Going My Way

“Claude, pay attention!” Hilda tugged at Claude’s arm, jostling him into what could be argued to be a conscious state. “Professor Hanneman is going to be here soon, and then the mock battle will start!”

“Hanneman being on time for something, that’s a laugh.” Claude muttered. It had been a few days since Hanneman had been assigned to the Golden Deer, and Claude had the strange feeling that he should have seen the Professor more then the five minutes it had taken to meet the class. Claude had even tried to set up an appointment with the man, but Hanneman hadn’t responded to any mail. When Claude had gone up to the Professor's office, there had been a sign telling people to go away. When Claude had stayed to knock on the door, Hanneman had barely looked up from his work before brushing Claude out of his office, citing ‘important research’.

“He’d better. Even if classes haven’t officially begun, the Professor can only avoid his responsibilities for so long.” Lysithea huffed out.

“It will reflect very poorly on Professor Hanneman if he is not here for the mock battle.” Lorenz said. “But putting aside our Professor’s chronic absence, you should know better then to stay up late Claude. The mock battle is an important tradition-”

“Yeah, yeah. The heir of Gloucester is correct, as he often is.” Claude wasn’t in the mood to get in a back and forth with Lorenz, so he conceded the argument before it could start. He had been up late last night reading over the final draft of the note he was going to send to his grandfather. Enclosed was just enough tantalizing details to make the old man pay attention, balanced with just enough plausible deniability in case the message was intercepted. If there was a war with the empire on the horizon, Claude couldn’t be too careful.

Before Lorenz could gloat, Hanneman slammed opened the door. He walked briskly to the front of the room, a stack of loose papers under one arm, and a cup of coffee twitching in his hand. “Good morning class! My deepest apologies for not having much time, but now that the preliminary results of my latest breakthrough have been set in place, my schedule will soon right itself, just in time for our first class together!”

Now that Hanneman had stood in place for longer then a minute, Claude noticed the dark rimmed bags under their Professor’s eyes. All of his classmates were staring too, and no one was willing to break the silence that had swept through the room. Claude sighed, before playing leader.

“So…Professor?” Claude asked. Hanneman spun on his heels, locking eyes with Claude.

“Yes Claude?”

“…No offense, but you do know the mock battle is starting in an hour, right?”

Hanneman took a moment to process Claude’s words, before furiously flipping through his documents.

“Oh yes yes yes yes! Of course I do! I even drew up a battle plan that should knock Manuela and her class down before they even knew what hit them. I made it up two nights ago, just to be sure I was on time.”

Hanneman finished flipping through his stack of papers, before deciding to try again from the beginning. The tension in the room began to rise. When Hanneman stared looking through his packet of notes for a fourth time, Claude’s classmates began to mutter amongst each other.

“I got pay-rolled by every man, woman and child in my village to get trained by this clown?”

“I don’t understand-father assured me that Professor Hanneman was one of the most respected scholars in the world…”

“Come on everyone, I’m sure the Professor knows what he’s doing…”

“If we lose the mock battle, do we still get to eat?”

Claude felt the pit of dread at the bottom of his stomach widen as he placed his head in his palms.

* * *

“Lady Edelgard, may I remind you to keep the pretty nothings that the…” Hubert almost growled out the next few words. ”… _Professor_ told us out of your mind. My agents are prodding leads in Arundel’s employ. We will have answers in due time.”

“Yes…” Edelgard’s thoughts kept falling back to the fateful lecture Byleth had given her. Edelgard knew that she should have been able to wait for Hubert’s investigation to try and turn up something, but had a sinking feeling that even if Hubert seized the title of Count Vestra and all it’s resources immediately, nothing would be found. That meant that the only avenue to learn more was from Byleth herself, an option that almost scared Edelgard. The woman seemed to haunt her faded memory. Whenever Edelgard saw Byleth, a pang of familiarity crept through her bones. Whenever Edelgard heard the mercenary speak, she thought she might remember hearing Byleth’s voice from so long ago, but never could.

It was distracting. Edelgard had spent hours staring off into space, accomplishing nothing, futility trying to remember when she had known Byleth. And for all her efforts, frustration was the only discovery she ever made.

But Edelgard now had an opportunity to vent some of her anger. She wasn’t particularly drawn to violence, but without any other outlet immediately available, Edelgard would make do. It was just a large-scale sparring match, after all. It was good way to let out some pressure. Good practice for the coming years. Edelgard wouldn’t normally care about who won the mock battle, but at the moment, she just wanted a simple victory to call her own.

Composing herself, Edelgard walked to the Black Eagles, who were loitering near a small patch of trees. “Alright everyone. Professor Manuela. Does everyone understand the plan?”

Her classmates all nodded at once. Manuela smirked.

“I must say Edelgard, your plan is clever enough that no one should see it coming. Hanneman will be taken for a loop! Let’s give it our all, class!” Manuela gave a wink. Caspar cheered. Bernadetta groaned.

Any other comments were cut short by Seteth’s voice booming over the battlefield. “Attention everyone! The mock battle is about to begin. Take your places, and wait for the horn!”

The Black Eagles scrambled into position, gripping their practice weapons. Edelgard focused on breathing in and out, keeping herself calm. This was a training exorcise. She could let her worries slip from her mind.

The horn bellowed from atop the hill. The Blue Lions had taken a small ruin to Edelgard’s right as their starting position. The Golden Deer hid behind fences and the woodland to her left, Just to Edelgard’s liking. Neither had committed to any offense. Edelgard gave the signal.

With a cry, the Black Eagles charged at the Blue Lions as a single wave. Edelgard batted away Ingrid’s hastily drawn lance, leaving the rest of her classmates to secure the defenseless Galatea’s surrender, and charged at the ill prepared Gaspard boy with the bow. Edelgard hooked onto the bowstring with the crook of her axe, before ripping the cord in half with a twist of her hand. The boy looked up, terrified, and raised his hands in surrender. Edelgard didn’t spare him another glance as she turned to survey the battlefield.

The rest of her class was making good time. The Gautier lout, Sylvain, had fallen to Caspar and Dorothea. He was the last member of the Blue Lions who had made up their shoddy perimeter, and Edelgard’s plan was going just as she had foreseen. Instead of a complex game of back and forth, Edelgard had opted for a simple plan: all out attack. She had bet that instant and rapid aggression from an entire house wouldn’t be expected, and her plan seemed to be paying off. The Golden Deer were prevented from making any sudden flanking movements by the trees and fences isolating them from the rest of the battle, and would be easily seen charging through. Edelgard had also placed Hubert to watch over her flank, with Bernadetta and Petra ready to shoot down any Golden Deer brave or foolish enough to try and charge through. Their only safe option was to charge further north, but that would lead them into the bulk of the Blue Lions, where they would have to help fight Edelgard’s battle for her. Finally, if Edelgard’s read of Claude was correct, he was the type of man to travel the path of least resistance. Attacking the Blue Lions while they had men down and were focused on the Black Eagles advancing was the most logical course of action. A flanking movement of the Black Eagles would cost too much time, and would be seen coming.

All of this was excluding Edelgard’s most subtle tactic: fear. Dimitri may have proven his bravery and Claude demonstrated his quick wit during the bandit attack, but many of their classmates were inexperienced. Inexperienced fighting. Inexperienced at taking orders in the heat of battle. Inexperienced at being attacked. It showed. The few Blue Lions that had fought before had to spend their time calming down the others. The newly minted Professor Alois was much the same, his hand on the shoulder of Annette Dominic, steadying her.

The element of surprise was dulling, however. The remaining Blue Lion’s were reforming their lines, under Dimitri’s lead. The prince and his bodyguard now stood at the front of their new formation. He raised his wooden spear, calling out to Edelgard.

“Ha! Impatient, aren’t you?” Dimitri said. “You may have drawn first blood, but you won’t find the rest of the Blue Lions so easily put down!”

“Someone has to make the first move Dimitri.” Edelgard said back. “My flank is protected by the fences and forest the Golden Deer hid behind. Your only option is to fight me with three fewer soldiers, or be torn apart on two fronts if you retreat west. Surrender now.”

“We won’t give in that easily.” Dimitri said proudly. “Even if we have to fight both houses, the Blue Lions will not give in…so…”

Dimtri trailed off looking past Edelgard with a confounded expression on his face. Edelgard dared to follow his eyes.

Behind the Black Eagles, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester was slowly picking himself up from the ground. Edlegard’s eyes darted to the forest and fences, but still saw the outlines of the rest of the Golden Deer safely behind their walls.

How had the Gloucester gotten there? Had one of the Golden Deer somehow gained mastery of warp magic? If so, why had they sent only one of their ranks to flank Edelgard’s forces? How-

Edelgard’s parade of questions were answered when she saw Lysithea von Ordelia thrown over the fence, screaming bloody murder.

* * *

Lorenz had barely caught Lysithea before Ignatz sailed over the fence. Hilda and Raphael were already turning to grab Leonie.

“Yes Students! This is ingenious creativity! Good thinking Claude!” Hanneman quickly shouted. “We’ll get the drop on Manuela and come out victorious yet!”

“It was a joke…” Claude whimpered out.

The Golden Deer had shown up to the mock battle with no real plan, and had decided to play defensively and hope for the best. Like Dimitri, he hadn’t expected Edelgard to rush in like she did. That left the Golden Deer in a tight spot. They had no easy ways of attacking the Black Eagles, and so when it became clear that they would have to play Edelgard’s game and attack the Blue Lions, Claude’s stubborn streak shone through. He didn’t like playing into other people’s hand before he came to Fódlan, and he hadn’t been kicked down enough to start now, even if he was fighting for nothing more than pride. Still, he had no way of attacking Edelgard quickly. The Golden Deer’s position was suitable for defense, but any attack would be made sluggish by the barriers the house had hid behind.

And so, when Lorenz asked him what his plan was, Claude responded by quipping that Raphael and Hilda should just throw everyone over the fences.

Somehow, Raphael had taken the suggestion seriously, and convinced Hilda to play along. Claude would have wondered why the Black Eagles hadn’t counterattacked yet, but he could guess the answer without having to look: they were stupefied into inaction. Claude knew this because he had apparently suggested the plan, and his jaw still wasn’t working right.

“Alright brave, noble leader man. It’s your turn~” Hilda all but sang.

“Yeah! Be sure to leave some for us!” Raphael laughed.

Claude just sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

With one mighty throw, Claude was sent spinning over the fence. His years of Wyvern practice and crest Imbued agility allowed him to land safely on his feet. Quickly scanning the battlefield, Claude saw whatever shock had gripped the Black Eagles had now passed. Ferdinand dueled with Lorenz. Lysithea and Ignatz had secured Linhardt’s surrender. Leone was charging at Caspar, and Hanneman and Manuela were trading insults and spells. Claude sighed and took out his bow, aiming at Ferdinand’s knee.

The arrow flew to its mark, but was intercepted at the last second by a flick of an axe head. Edelgard had arrived to reinforce her failing defense. To Ferdinand’s horror, Edelgard hit Lorenz in the back, forcing the young noble to his knees. Claude nocked another arrow and charged the imperial princess.

With nothing but pride on the line, Claude fired a volley at Edelgard. She dodged, but Claude had captured her attention. He jumped past a huffing Caspar as he raced to the eastern block of trees, Edelgard in quick pursuit. Edelgard followed, her axe rose to deflect incoming arrows. Claude darted into the trees, letting one arrow lure Edelgard in further. Now, Claude had to figure out what to do now that he had the princesses’ undivided attention. Quickly scanning the trees layout, Claude came up with a plan.

* * *

Edelgard chased after Claude. His plan was a strange kind of ingenious-So ridiculous everyone was caught off guard. More importantly, it put Edelgard in a very vulnerable spot. The Black Eagles now had to fight on two fronts, a recipe for disaster. Leaving Hubert in charge to manage the defense, Edelgard chased after Claude. If she could take him out quickly, the rest of the Golden Deer should fold just as fast. Then, the Black Eagles could turn back to face the Blue Lions, who had no doubt recovered at this point. Still, she would have to act quickly.

Claude shouted out provocations as he ran into the trees. “Princess, you sure about this? I hear rats love hiding in the underbrush.”

Edelgard let out a hiss. “Don’t you-Claude! Don’t joke about that!”

Edelgard had endurance, by Claude had speed. The Riegan heir darted between trees, looping in and out of sight before finally vanishing. Edelgard slowed as she lost sight of Claude, taking a few cautious steps forward.

“I know what your planning, Claude.” Edelgard announced, fishing for a reaction. “You think you’re clever, sneaking about behind my back. You think I don’t know what your up to.”

The sound of fighting outside the trees weakened, but Edelgard heard nothing from Claude. He was playing the assassin. Edelgard continued, slowly turning in place. “You think you can flank me in these trees like you did on the battlefield. It wont work.”

A branch cracked on the forest floor, and a quiet curse followed. Not quiet enough for Edelgard not to hear it, however. Edelgard spun towards the sound. The princess marched forward confidently, axe raised to swing. “It won’t work because you lack experience.” Hidden behind the shrubs she had heard the noise, Edelgard saw a flash of yellow out of the corner of her eye. Slowly walking by the patch, Edelgard spun to face the yellow cloth at the last second, pushed the shrubs out of view. “Did you really thing sneaking about in bright yellow was a good pla-?”

Edelgard froze as she felt a block of wood plant itself at the back of her head. In front her, Claude’s cape was tied to a tree branch, lazily flying in the breeze.

* * *

Claude smirked as he jumped out of his hiding place, Arrow pointed at the back of Edelgard’s head. “Yeah, I figured you’d see bright pastel, even in this light.” Claude said. “So I planned for that. Snapping a twig from a distance takes some work, but I manage. And I wouldn’t call myself a master, but I do have some experience at throwing my voice.” It was one of Claude’s favorite traps. Letting his quarry think they’d caught him unaware, all while he held all the cards.

“I see.” Edelgard said. She remained frozen in place, but did not drop her weapon. “Clever, Claude.”

“Thanks.” Claude smirked. “Now, I don’t mean to push, but I’d like you to drop your weapon now.”

“Really?” Claude could hear Edelgard’s smirk. Something was up. Claude prepared to let his arrow loose-

Before his hands stung terribly, forcing Claude to drop his bow. Claude looked up to his right, seeing Hubert’s hands buzzing with dark magic.

“You never let Lady Edelgard out of your sight.” Hubert chuckled. “But I never let you escape mine.”

“Guh…” Claude grunted out. “Well, you got me. I give up. Run along and mop up the rest of my house.”

Hubert let out an oily chuckle. “Of course.” He took a step forward, magic still churning in his hand.

“Hubert.” Edelgard said.

“Of course, Lady Edelgard.” Huber responded, but did not stop the magic in his hand from channeling. Claude's eye widened.

“Hubert, stop scaring our classmates!” Edelgard shouted.

Hubert stepped back. “My apologies, Lady Edelgard.”

I’m not the one you…” Edelgard started. “…Wait. If you’re here, who is commanding our house against the other two?”

Before Hubert could respond, there was a thunder of footsteps, and the three turned. Dimitri, Alois, Dedue, Annette, Mercedes, and Felix rushed out of the trees, surrounding the three. Everyone stared at each other.

“Ah.” Dimitri spoke first. “Just some friendly advice, but a leader probably should not leave their forces rudderless in a battle. Your classmates completely lost any sense of direction when you ran away to fight each other.”

“What about the Professors? They should have been able to lead the classes.” Edelgard asked. Alois coughed.

“They knocked each other out seconds after you two ran off.”

“An illustrious start to our school year.” Claude sighed out.

* * *

Edelgard huffed in frustration. Manuela had discharged the Black Eagles, telling them that they would be learning from the mistakes they made next week, but that hardly mattered at the moment.

“Hubert, what have I told you about scaring our classmates?”

Hubert gave a stiff bow. “A thousand pardons, Lady Edelgard. It seems you are not the only one put in a foul mood by…Professor Byleth’s revelations, and I found the opportunity to…vent. I swear to you, it shall not happen again.”

“Good.” Edelgard sighed. “I’ll apologize to Claude on your behalf. You’ve never done well with displays of remorse. I have also decided to start planning for you to tail me instead of following orders.”

Hubert smirked. “You have my thanks, Lady Edelgard.”

“Yes. Still, that was a fun distraction while it lasted. My head is a bit clearer.” Edelgard looked up to the stars. They were hidden behind the clouds. Perhaps it would rain soon.

* * *

“Well, we tried, and that’s what counts, right leader man?” Hilda said, batting her eyes. Claude rolled his own pair.

“You’r one to talk, Hilda. You gave up before you got to the fight. There’s not a scratch on you.”

“I quit while I was ahead. We’d basically lost at that point.” Hilda shrugged.

Lorenz, who had been nursing the back of his head, scowled.

“Just for the record, Hilda, never throw me again. What in the Goddess’ name possessed you to perform such a brutish act?”

“Yeah, who’s bright idea was that anyway?” Leonie grumbled.

“Hey, it seemed like a good idea at the time! It was one of Claude’s ingenious plans!” Raphael said. “Sorry about the surprise, everyone!”

Lysithea muttered quietly. “Never…Pegasus rides…stupid tall people…”

Marianne stayed quiet, doing her best to heal Ignatz, who whimpered.

Claude sighed, and looked up into the sky. The clouds were moving in. The moon was waning. He wondered if there would be any light tonight.

* * *

“Excellent work, everyone! It was a rough beginning, but we pulled through!” Alois said.

“Just goes to show that we work best together!” Annette said.

“More like it shows how uncoordinated the other two houses are. They were a mess once Claude and Edelgard left.” Felix scoffed.

“Hey now, I thought the Eagles did pretty good those first few minutes.” Sylvain said, rubbing a bruise on his neck.

Alois beamed. “Correct, all three of you! Both houses had strong starts, but couldn’t keep together in the end.” Alois paused for dramatic effect. “You could say their leaders lacked a ‘dearly’ needed a set of ‘eagle’ eyes to watch the battlefield!”

No one laughed. Alois continued. “Meanwhile, we managed to hold fast, and work with each other, and stuck together, even if the battle started out poorly! Keep that in mind when you think about how to improve yourselves!”

Mercedes nodded. “I’m ready to work as hard I can. Thank you, Professor Alois!”

Ashe smiled. “We’ll all work harder next time!”

“Every defeat is a chance to grow, I suppose.” Ingrid huffed.

“That’s the spirit!” Alois said. “Now, lets go celebrate! The dinning hall won’t know what hit them!”

The Blue Lion’s walked toward the feast. Dedue looked to Dimitri. “An excellent performance today, your Highness.”

Dimitri smiled back. “To you to, my friend.” The prince walked along with his friends and classmates, the faint glow of starlight peaking through the clouds. Dimitri felt like didn’t have a care in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heard you all wanted Flysithea. I deliver, weeks before the game can.
> 
> I wont lie, that’s probably half the reason I wrote this chapter. Keeping things fluffy this time. Tried to write in more drama with Claude and Edelgard, but it just felt forced. We’ll get back to the serious business soon, but…
> 
> DLC trailer dropped, mucked up my schedule a bit. We’ll all se how much lore it changes, and how much erasing myself and every other longfic author on this site have to do.
> 
> As always, Kudos are appreciated.


	7. Shadow of the Enemy

Dimitri had answered his summons promptly, arriving in the Archbishop’s audience chamber just as Rhea opened to door from her side room. After taking their places in the chamber, Dimitri gave a curt bow.

“It is a pleasure to speak with you, Archbishop.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Prince Dimitri.” Rhea said with a polite smile on her face. “I offer my congratulations for winning the mock battle. Your house fought well.”

Dimitri bowed his head. “Thank you, Archbishop. We could not have done it without Professor Alois’ guidance.”

Rhea nodded. “I am glad to hear our newest professor is fitting well into his new role.” Rhea paused for a moment, eyes drifting to her left, before snapping back. “That brings me to your classes mission this month. The knights have pursued the last few bandits who attacked you, and have cornered them. It has been decided to send your class to finish the job under the knight’s supervision.”

“Of course. Where are the bandits located?”

“They are being sealed in Zanado, the Red Canyon.”

“Ah. Our class will leave as soon as Professor Alois deems us ready.” Dimitri gave a bow and moved to leave, before stopping himself. “Oh, that’s right. Archbishop, if I may ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“Has there been any progress in discovering the bandit’s motive?”

Rhea’s lips thinned. “No, unfortunately. We are still investigating the matter. If at all possible, you should try to spare their leader, so we can interrogate him.”

“Understood. At your leave.” Dimitri politely bowed, exiting the room. There would be class later in the week. He could discuss the finer details with Professor Alois then. For now, Dimitri decided to go forward with his morning training routine. Greeting his fellow students as we walked past, Dimitri looked at the shadows of Garreg Mach’s spires. It would not be noontime for at least two hours, by his estimation. That left plenty of time to get a good workout.

As he entered the training hall, Dimitri noticed that Claude and Edelgard stood next to the newly minted Professor Byleth, quietly talking amongst each other.

Dimitri decided to pay them no mind. If the three wished to speak with one another, it was hardly his business. He moved to the weapon rack, testing the weight of the various spears. Settling on a thinner lance to work with, Dimitri completed his warm up stretches and was about to go out and practice, only to be stopped by Claude calling to him.

“Hey, Dimitri, come over here for a minute!”

Dimitri changed course, walking towards the three. “Yes, what is it?” Now that he was closer, Dimitri could see the glean of sweat on Claude and Edelgard. Both had scuffled uniforms, and were short on breath. In contrast, Byleth looked as though she was made of stone.

“We were just sparring with teach here, and she was giving us a good thrashing. Want to go a round?”

Dimitri blinked. “I suppose. Professor, if you would have me as a sparring partner, I would be more then happy to train with you.”

Dimitri couldn’t tell what Byleth was thinking. He hadn’t seen much of the mercenary since she had arrived in Garreg Mach, but from what he could tell, her emotionless expression was how she acted around everyone.

“As you wish.” Byleth turned and walked out to the training yard, practice sword in hand. Dimitri politely followed. After getting into place across from Byleth, he gave a small bow, before quickly sinking into a ready stance, spear held forward. Byleth gave a small nod, and languidly held her sword at the waist. Her stance did not shift. To the casual observer, it would have appeared that the professor wasn’t taking the spar seriously. Dimitri tightened his grip, remembering how easily Byleth had torn apart the bandit’s ranks. This posture was not from an overconfident schoolteacher, but an experienced swordswoman who didn’t have to take a stance to prepare herself.

Byleth made no move to attack. Her eyes didn’t meet Dimitri’s. All she looked at was the end of his spear. It would be up to him to strike first then. Dimitri steadied his breathing, adjusted his grip one more time, and then rushed forth.

Dimitri opened with a short jab, which Byleth easily avoided. Dimitri pressed onward, striking again and again. Each and every time, Byleth dodged, never so much as raising her sword. Dimitri tried one final time to feint a strike from Byleth’s left. Byleth hoped over his spear, dodging his attack just as easily as the rest.

Dimitri let out a huff, and brought his spear to attention and out his posture at ease. “Incredible. It was like I was trying to hit the wind.”

Byleth gave a nod. “You are used to fighting slower, less experienced opponents, and put to much power into your jab strikes. You need to work on compensating for your weapon’s long reach by shortening your thrusts.”

“I understand. Thank you for the lesson.”

“Yeah, teach is pretty slick on the battlefield.” Claude said, having wandered over. “I was wondering when you were going to give up. I bet the princess that you’d last at least another five minutes before throwing the towel in.”

“I don’t bet.” Edelgard had maneuvered herself opposite to Claude. “And I am rather shocked that not a single one of us was able to land a hit on the professor.”

“Really?” Dimitri’s eyebrows rose. “Not a single hit from either of you?”

“Afraid so. They went much the same as your fight, really.” Claude rubbed the back of his neck. Edelgard looked at her feet.

“Amazing. It seems we have much to learn from you.”

“I will be happy to help, however I can.” Byleth said blandly.

“Thank you. My class will need it this month. We are going to be fighting against bandits.”

“Oh, you have received your own mission?” Edelgard asked. Dimitri nodded to her.

“Yes, I just received it from the Archbishop before coming here to train. Have you two already received your missions?”

“Yes. The Archbishop accepted my proposal yesterday. Lady Varley had promised to give the central church some artifacts that had been stored away for the last century, and I offered to come to her estate and transfer them for the countess.” Edelgard explained. Her eyes drifted towards Byleth. After a moment, Edelgard cleared her throat. “-Have you ever been to the Varley estate in your travels, Professor? It’s quite picturesque.”

“I passed through the lands with my father a few year ago.” Byleth said. “The hills were pretty.”

“I imagine the flowers wood be in full bloom at this time of year. Your quite lucky to be able to visit now.” Dimitri commented. “And what of you, Claude? Have you received your mission?”

‘Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Claude’s eyes were distant. “I got a letter from my grandfather, who said he wanted to help me in my education. The Golden Deer are going to Derdriu and deal with some ‘unruly merchants’, as he so kindly put it. When I showed the note to Lady Rhea, she gave us the all clear.”

“Merchants?” Edelgard asked. “What trouble would merchants be?”

“Well, they have a bit more power in the Alliance then in the Empire or the Kingdom. Some of the less savory merchants use their influence to get gangs to pick fights with the city guards for one reason or another. It’s a mess, but the Golden Deer will clean it up this time.”

"It seems like something the city guards should have well handled. It seems like quite a bit of trouble to bring you in." Edelgard questioned.

Claude shrugged. "Gotta cut our teeth on something."

“Both of you are going so far away from the monastery. Back home for some of your classmates. I admit, I am envious. The Blue Lions will be staying near Garreg Mach for the entire month. I can only hope we are able to travel back to Faerghus soon. It has only been a short time since the year started, but I can sense that many of my classmates are homesick.”

“Really?” Claude raised an eyebrow. “What no-name bandits are so close to the monastery?”

“Actually, it’s the very same group that chased us through the woods.” Dimitri replied. “The knights have them cornered in the Red Canyon.”

“The very same bandits, huh.” Claude was looking up at the roof, lost in thought. “I thought Teach and her dad had run them all through.”

Dimitri shook his head. “Jeralt’s mercenaries and the knights were very thorough, but some managed to escape. Looking back on it now, I suppose it was for the best that some of them survived.”

“What do you mean?” Edelgard asked, a puzzled look on her face.

“There were a hundreds of bandits in that group, but there had been no reports of any kind of thievery in the area surrounding Remire in the past few years,” Dimitri explained. “We are going to try and capture the ruffians.”

“Really?” Edelgard raised an eyebrow. “Does the church want him for public execution? They don’t usually let bandits like him live.” Dimitri could hear a hint of tenseness in Edelgard’s voice. It was understandable. Even if growing up as heir to the imperial throne had prepared her for war, Edelgard was just human. It was only natural for her to be unnerved knowing she had brushed with death, and that the potential killers still roamed free.

“No, not usually.” Dimitri agreed. “However, Archbishop Rhea agrees that we should keep him alive to lean where they came from and what they were up too.”

“It’s almost like they were targeting us. Sent to our location by someone who knew we were going to be out, far away from the safety of castle walls.” Claude mused aloud. “We probably shouldn’t have been the first group a bandit party that large stumbled across, and they don’t seem the type to not try and attack some defenseless village or helpless traveler. So we should have heard about some sort of foul play from the area.” Cluade craned his neck towards Byleth. “Does that sound correct in your professional mercenary opinion Teach?”

“It isn’t incorrect.” Byleth said. Claude’s eyes wandered back to the ceiling, arms behind his head.

”And with us three involved, it brings up the possibility of political assassination.” He muttered. “So if you can get some of them to talk, it might be able to shed some light on whatever went down.”

“Yes, exactly.” Dimitri said. “I’m going to try and subdue their leader. If anyone knows anything, it should be him.”

“He is stubborn enough to die twice.” Byleth said. Her words were so low, Dimitri couldn’t tell if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud, or if it was her natural deadpan flattening out the words.

“You know their leader? How?” DImitri asked.

Byleth blinked, before looking at him. “He was one of the last bandits I cut down, only he managed to make my stab in his chest a shallow cut. Loud. Barked orders. Ran faster then all the others. I know the type. He fits it.”

“I think I remember him.” Edelgard said. “He’s the one who charged at me near the end, correct?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Well. I hope the scum gets what he deserves.” Edelgard turned. “I wouldn’t say that you need it, but I wish you luck, Dimitri. Your task seems the most dangerous out of the three.”

“Thank you. Though I wouldn’t say that. The knights will be right behind us, and from what I hear, Count Varley can be as accommodating as an angry bandit.”

Edelgard let out a small laugh. “I’ll survive. Until next time.” With that, she marched out of the training hall.

Dimitri turned back to Claude, who was staring at Edelgard’s wake with a distant look on his face. “Didn’t you tease me about pining after Edelgard, Claude?” Dimitri said with a laugh.

Claude blinked, coming back into focus. “Oh. Ha. You keep catching me lost in thought. I had just forgotten a little detail I’d heard a few days ago.” He began to stretch, signaling he too was about to exit the building. “I was wondering how Edelgard was handling the political assassination idea, but…”

Claude turned to Byleth, cocking his eyebrow. “I’ll ask the other lady in the room. Would you call it unbecoming to worry about my fellow classmate and heir?”

Byleth hummed. “We live in dangerous times. As heirs, you three have dangerous lives. Worrying about each other isn’t a bad thing.” Claude gave a chuckle, and winked.

“Yeah I guess you’re right. Anyway, I better go pack. Later, you two.” And with that, Claude strolled away.

Dimitri turned back to Byleth. “Once again, thank you for the spar. I would appreciate any other sessions you would be willing to grant me.”

“If you wish, I will teach you as best I can.” Byleth said.

“Please, do. You are clearly quite skilled.” Dimitri let out a small cough. “Though, now that I think about it, we haven’t seen each other much since you came to the monastery. I haven’t been able to thank you properly for saving us from the initial attack.” Dimitri gave another polite bow. “Please, accept my gratitude.”

Byleth returned his gesture with a curtsy. “Of course.”

“Thank you. Oh, and congratulations on becoming a combat instructor. You have clearly earned it.” Dimitri paused. “I do wonder though. I come here often to train, but this is the first time I’ve seen you on the sparring grounds.”

“I’ve been helping my father settle in.” Her voice was monotone, but Dimitri had seen Jeralt around the monastery enough to know what she meant.

His face fell, and Dimitri gave a small bow of his head. “My apologies. I know how hard it can be to…lose people. Please, give your father my sympathies.”

Byleth stared at Dimitri for a moment. He tried not to let her blank stare unnerve him. He knew she didn’t mean any harm. Dedue’s expression was not dissimilar.

“Thank you. Also, I would ask a favor.”

Dimitri blinked. “Of course. What is it?”

“I would like to accompany your class on your mission.”

“Certainly. We would be happy to have your assistance, and I’m sure Alois would be happy to know you wanted to come.” Dimitri said. “For now though, may I ask for another spar? I would like to practice the technique you recommended.”

Byleth let out something that was a mix of a sigh and a hum. “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funnily enough, Rhea brings up the whole bandit question after the mission, only to never have it resolve. Go figure. Still, let’s try and make something out of it.
> 
> Also, no immediate exposition dump for Dimitri. He gets buildup. Like his character arc. It’s like poetry, it rhymes.
> 
> And yeah, apparently Kostas can count his group in the hundreds. In chapter 2, he and a bunch of his minions have battalions, 75 men strong.
> 
> 3 more weeks of not committing to anything before DLC drops. Given what we know so far, I don’t think I’ll have to go back and rewrite anything. Here’s to hoping.
> 
> Also, broke 2,000 views, and as of posting, 150 Kudos. Thanks everyone!
> 
> As always, Kudo's are appreciated.


	8. Blue Skies and a Battle

“Princess Edelgard, it has been to long! It must have been ten years since I last saw you!” Countess Varley exclaimed as she walked out of the greenhouse, across the well-trimmed lawn, and through her study’s open doors.

Edelgard gave a polite nod. “Thank you for your hospitality, Countess. My classmates and I are finding ourselves at home in your manor.”

“Good, good.” Countess Varley nodded back. “It’s wonderful to see you so at ease. But please, do sit. Let us chat.”

The two took their seats at a small table. The countess took a platter of sweats and offered it to Edelgard, who took a small pastry. “You are very kind, Countess Varley.”

“Oh, you make me blush.” Countess Varley replied with a hint of well-acted laughter. “Now, about that bit of business you-“

The doors of the study burst open, and Bernadetta rushed in squealing. Hubert marched in after her, not bothering to hide his annoyed expression.

Countess Varley’s expression morphed into restrained anger. “Bernadetta! What is the meaning of this!”

“S-sory mother! Sorry Edel-“ Countess Varley’s eyes flashed. Bernadetta gulped. “Sorry Lady Edelgard! It’s just that Father arrived sooner then expected, and he was looking for me and then I needed to hide and he never comes in here-“

“Bernadetta, enough.” Countess Varley stood up, and Bernadetta cowed backward. “I was in the middle of hosting Princess Edelgard. You cannot simply barge in and interrupt our talk because your father arrived.”

“B-but mother-“

“No. In fact, we hardly need the count barging in and interrupting us.” Countess Varley’s tone brooked no argument. “Go attend to your father. Do not interrupt us again.”

Bernadetta’s eyes widened. “Mother, no! Please-“

“I will not repeat myself young lady. You-“

“It’s fine.” Both Varely’s heads spun to Edelgard. “Bernadetta can stay in the greenhouse, and look over the plants. We can keep talking about the artifact, and Hubert can entertain Count Varley.”

Hubert rolled his eyes and nodded.

Countess Varley pressed her lips together, before smiling. “Of course! You are so kind, Princess Edelgard. Thank you for solving our little problem. I can never think clearly in the heat of the moment, you must forgive me.” Her eyes snapped back to Bernadetta, all traces of anger hidden away. “Give your thanks to the princess, daughter.”

Bernadetta rapidly nodded. “Y-yes! Thank you, Lady Edelgard!” She turned to her mother, and gulped before asking in a steady voice: “Mother, may I please excuse myself? I’m so-I apologize for interrupting you.”

Countess Varely nodded. “You may. Your apology is accepted.”

Bernadetta gave a curtsy to her mother and Edelgard, before skittering off across the field into the greenhouse. Hubert followed to secure the greenhouse door, nodded to the two, and exited the room.

Countess Varely smiled. “I must thank you again, Princess. Already, I can see you are very wise.”

“It was nothing.” Edelgard said blandly.

“Your humble nature suits you well.” Countess Varley responded. “Now, onto that bit of business, if you don’t mind?”

Edelgard shifted in her seat. “Please.”

“I have read your proposition. I would be interested in your political reform, and would be willing to help you.”

“That is good to hear. I would be glad to send-“

“If I may interject, princess?” Countess Varley asked sweetly.

“Of course.”

“There are just two little problems before I am able to commit to anything.”

“What are they?”

“The first is a problem of power. Count Varley is a bit apprehensive to change, and terribly prejudiced against your noble house.” The Countess took a quiet sip of tea before continuing. “I would be best suited to help you if the Count was…taken out of the picture.”

Edelgard held Countess Varley’s gaze. The older woman’s eyes had gained a mercenary gleam, and had hidden her mouth behind her teacup. Edelgard raised her own.

“To remove a count from his power, I would need the title of Emperor.” Edelgard took a sip, and placed teacup back down. “And to reclaim the throne’s power. For that, I will need the support of the seven.”

“Yes, the seven.” Countess Varley agreed. “That brings me to my second problem. If I am to commit anything to your cause, I will need to see something more then the assurances you have provided.”

“Lord Arundel has already informed you of his own position on the matter, has he not?”

“He has made his feelings clear, yes...” Countess Varley said. “But one other house is poor odds. Though, if I may be so bold, I presume Count Vestra will be suffering a similar fate as Count Varley?”

“Hubert tells me that his father is growing old.” Edelgard admitted. “And his hobby, flying, is always dangerous.”

The countess nodded her head in a reasonable facsimile of sympathy. “What happens to us as we grow old is always tragic.” She took a small bite out of a Danish, swallowing before continuing. “Nonetheless, Prime Minister Aegir will not hand over his power. More importantly, Bergliez and Hevring remain unaccounted for. If I am to commit to anything, I will need to see that they are among your number.”

“I understand.” Edelgard said. “I must ask you to wait for a few months, but be assured that you will receive your assurances.”

The countess smiled serenely. “I eagerly await they day.”

Edelgard leaned back in her chair. The countess was unpleasant to put it mildly, but she had been cordial with far worse. Edelgard would let the woman think what she wanted. In the end, she was one step closer to making her dream a reality. Byleth had said that the process would be difficult, but she had long accepted that. Her vision of a better world would become a reality. All she had to do was make sure no one discovered anything too soon. Byleth had not told anyone yet, and she had been vague enough with the bandit leader to not allow anything useful to come tumbling out of his mouth. Just as an extra layer of precaution, she had killed the cad, and no one in his misbegotten ranks had seen her. With any luck, the whole rotten lot of bandits would kill each other before Dimitri even had to lift a finger. Her Flame Emperor costume would have a few more months of anonymity.

Edelgard let herself relax. Everything was going to plan. Countess Varley had reacted as she had expected too, and could be counted on to act in her own selfish interest. She would secure the other count’s loyalties soon enough. The only spot of contention was Byleth’s foreknowledge, and her own strange feeling of knowing the woman. But Edelgard would find a way to smooth it over. After all, Byleth had not shared Edelgard’s intentions with anyone. Her surprise attack could still proceed as she had always intended it too.

* * *

“We don’t know what the boss had planned, honest!” One of the bandits said. The knights were tying up the few dozen bandits who had surrendered, and had begun marching the lot to Garreg Mach’s dungeon. Dimitri stood with Alois and Felix, interrogating one of the cutthroats.

Felix interjected, unimpressed. “So he just told you to run into battle against the Knights of Serios, and you obeyed? Did you think that you had any chance against a force that strong? You idiots can’t be stupid enough to bet on those odds.”

“Hey, I knew it was stupid!” Another bandit interjected. “That’s why I let all the other guys charge in first. More chance that I’d get a cut if they die fighting for it. Biggest pot of coin I’ve ever seen.”

“You always were a yellow-bellied coward.” The first bandit said. “But yeah, that’s it really. Boss was paid enough money to hire us all, and we followed his orders. Then things went south, and then we found the boss dead one morning, and things really started to get bad.”

Felix rolled his eye in disgust. “Pathetic.”

“Who hired you?” Dimitri asked. “And you found your leader dead? When?”

Both bandits shrugged. “We were paid enough to not ask questions. So we didn’t.” The first one replied.

“Yeah,” the second one added. “And we just found the boss dead last night. We don’t know who did it. Probably just some punk who thought he could get a pardon if they brought you knights the boss’ head.”

“We were about to beat some answers out of Danny over there. He’s a born rat.” The first one jerked his head towards another bandit sitting quietly behind them, who blanched.

“I’ll have you gentlemen know that you committed a very serious crime.” Alois interrupted. “Attempting to assassinate students is bad enough. But the students you were trying to kill were the heirs to the empire, alliance, and kingdom, making your crime all the more inexcusable.”

The bandit’s eyes widened, and swerved to Dimitri.

“What?”

“But that means-“

“It couldn’t-“

“I got a granny to feed!”

“Were dead.” They said in unison.

“Not necessarily!” Alois’ face brightened. “We are searching for clues to your employer. Any information leading to their capture would go a long way to helping you out of your own predicament.”

“Oh, when you put it like that, I seem to remember-“

Felix cut them off before they could start. “We only want genuine information. And trust me, we’ll know if you’re lying to save your skin.”

“When you you’ve been in the business for as long as I have, you get a ‘year’ for lies!” Alois added.

The bandits shifted uncomfortably. Felix sneered.

“They don’t know anything, Professor. Let’s throw these cowards in with the rest of them and be done with this.”

After the bandits had been escorted away, Felix groaned. “Fat load of good this has been. These scum don’t know anything.”

Alois shrugged. “Don’t lose hope. I’m not much for interrogations, really, and there are plenty of bandits we didn’t speak with. The knights may find something after our prisoners get a chance to cool their heads.”

Dimitri nodded. “Let us wait and see if anything comes of this. There is no need to jump to conclusions. At very least, we learned that their leader was killed before the fight. Their employer might be responsible for that murder to cover their tracks, right professor?”

“Please, Boar. They were probably just lying so they wouldn’t be blamed for killing our real target.”

“Settle down, you two.” Alois looked around the battlefield. ”At least we stopped the bandits from doing any more harm. Let’s go-Is that Byleth there? Where did she run off too?”

The Blue Lions looked to where their professor was pointing. Sure enough, Byleth was dashing up the slope towards them.

“Professor!” Dimitri called out. “Why are you running?”

Byleth came to a stop in front of them. “Do you all remember the past week’s lessons on battling Demonic Beasts?”

“…Yes?” Dimitri looked around. The rest of the Blue Lions had gathered around, and all looked just as confused as he was.

“Repeat my lesson. Now.”

Dimitri was perplexed, but obeyed. “Stay as a group, attack from multiple sides, keep out of the beast’s way-Professor, what is this all about?”

“A coin was flipped. A horde is coming. We must prepare ourselves.”

“What-“

Any questions died on their lips as soon as they heard a bellow echo out from the canyon. A scale-covered monster twice the size of a wyvern pushed it’s way through the narrow canyon walls. A wolf scrambled over it’s back. The beat of heavy wings sounded across the air.

Alois ran next to Byleth, moving to shield the Blue Lions. “Knights, prepare for battle! Students, form up! Stay behind us professors! These beasts are much more dangerous then the common bandit!”

“Stick together, and you’ll be fine. Remember what you have been taught.” Byleth added.

The knights fired a volley into the sky, but the monsters barely noticed. Cavalry had returned from escorting prisoners, and lowered their lances, preparing to charge. Eight beasts had emerged from the shadows, and more could be heard. The scaled creature gave a hiss that wrapped around their ears, and charged, spitting out poison along the way.

The scaled beast charged through their ranks, and all anyone could do was dodge. Dimitri found himself isolated from the rest of the Blue Lions, and turned to rejoin them. All he found was a mouth dripping with poison, ready to swallow him whole. Dimitri rolled away, and then shifted into a sprint. The beast followed, smelling his fear. In a moment’s distraction, he tripped over a loose tree branch. He turned back to see the monster closing in on him, mouth agape. He turned to scramble away, but the bridge he had hoped to cross was now just a cliff, the tremors from the monsters footfalls breaking the stone apart.

Dimitri felt as though time itself had slowed as he turned back to face his doom. The creature was close now. He could feel the chill of it’s toxic breath on his face. The prince drew his spear, and prepared to strike, if for one last time.

Suddenly, a brilliant light blasted the creature’s face. It screamed as the momentum carried its body over the cliff and into the canyon below. Dimitri felt warmth envelop him, and all his aches and pain receded. He looked up to find his savior, bathed in the afternoon sun, green hair floating like a mosaic of a saint.

“Professor Byleth? Was that your magic?” Dimitri asked. Byleth wasted no time, and reached down to pick him up by the hand.

“Yes. Let’s get moving.”

“When did you learn such powerful spells? I-“

Dimitri never got to finish his sentence, as Byleth pushed him away. Looking back, he saw a monstrous claw swing through where he had just been standing, reaching out from below the cliff. Byleth did not seem as concerned as she should have been. Quickly and calmly turning around, she slid down the mountain into the monster’s gaping jaw. For a moment, professor and student’s eyes met.

“Go, Dimitri. Your friends need you. Do not worry about me.”

With that, Byleth disappeared beneath the rock. The only cries of pain came from the monster below.

Dimitri turned, rushing to his class’ aid. All he could do was obey.

* * *

Duke Oswald von Riegan sat upright in his bed, his posture rigid and formal. His eyes even seemed well rested. The tip off was the duke’s hair. For the few months Claude had gotten to really known his grandfather, the duke had never once let his peppered grey hair seem anything less then perfectly groomed, the picture of noble decorum. This afternoon however, the old man had stray hairs jutting up and away from his usually carefully combed head. His beard had grown just long enough to be called unkempt. Grey hairs bristled against the duke’s upper lip, something Claude could tell irritated the old man far more then being bed ridden.

The sickness had worsened since Claude last visited his grandfather. But despite that, the duke’s eyes still shone with a calm calculation behind well-polished spectacles, ready to pounce on anything Claude said.

“And she admitted this out loud? This is not some fanciful interpretation of the facts at hand?” Duke Riegan asked in a calm, deliberate voice.

“It fits. She’d have a motive to hire the bandits, and I do remember her trying to-“

“That was not my question.” Duke Riegan’s voice cut through Claude’s own with practiced ease. “Did Princess Hresvelg admit that she had hired these bandits to try to kill you and Prince Blaiddyd?”

Claude bit on his tongue. “Her retained complained that hiring bandits was unbecoming. She didn’t contradict him.” He had decided to leave Byleth out of his story for now. If he mentioned that a twenty-year-old mercenary girl had explained half of everything he knew for no price, questions that Claude really didn’t need to answer would come up. It was best to keep the narrative simple, and just say that he’d overheard Edelgard and Hubert arguing when the two had thought they were alone. It wasn’t entirely untrue.

“Hm.” Duke Riegan looked down at his papers, before turning back to Claude. “This latest accusation is just circumstantial evidence and hearsay, but not impossible. We will wait to see what the church manages to extract from their prisoners.”

“Alright. Is there any hint of the empire mobilizing its troops?”

“Not yet. There are some rumblings, but nothing definitive. Bergliez hasn’t been moving any noteworthy resources according to our friends in the empire, and Vestra dealings are notoriously difficult to track. Arundel has been…suspicious, but it has been nearly a decade since the man hasn’t been. Nothing worth mentioning from any of the other major lords.”

“Hmm…” Claude scratched his head. “You know, I wasn’t sure that you’d believe anything I told you. In our brief time together, you didn’t strike me as the type to just believe any crazy thing I said. Especially after you found nothing to back it up.”

“Then I struck you well.” The duke shifted through the papers spread atop his bedding. “You mentioned another detail that had come up.”

Claude ignored his grandfather’s question for his own. “Why are you playing along like you believe me? I barely believe it myself, and I’m the one who heard it all.”

The duke looked up, meeting Claude’s gaze. “In our brief time together, you did not strike me as the type to lie about something this serious.”

“…Ah.” Claude said. “That’s a lot of faith you’re putting in me, gramps. I wasn’t sure you’d give that to me so easily.” Claude scratched the back of his head, and cocked an eyebrow. “In fact, I can’t believe it. What’s the real reason?”

“The other reason, then.” Duke Riegan sighed. “The Empire conquered Brigid not a decade ago, setting precedent for an renewed interest in expansion. Furthermore, the Hresvelg line was humiliated in the insurrection. A young, ambitious emperor would gladly try to avenge their honor and restore the house’s dignity and power by uniting the empire against an enemy. Attacking the church is not illogical, and binds the empire together through scarred pride and centuries old hatreds.” Duke Riegan leaned back, and drummed his fingers on his leg. “Their nobles have kept the resentment of losing control of the kingdom alive for five hundred years. Many blame the church’s intervention for their loss, regardless of the facts. Many an emperor has dreamed of reconquering the lost territory since then. Attacking the church is to attack the kingdom, which has been weakened by the Duscur business.”

Duke Riegan’s eyes smoldered as he admitted his next words. “More importantly, we are seen as weak by the empire, and not unjustly so. We were unable to…” He gritted his teeth. “It took far to long to dislodge Adresita from our southern territory. Your report merely confirmed an uncomfortable reality.”

Claude let out a small cough. “Well. Um. Thanks for the honesty?”

It took seconds for Duke Riegan to regain his composure. “You are my heir. It is your business to know our recent history. Now, the other detail?”

“Right, right.” Claude sighed. “You know what happened to house Ordelia during the Hrym affair? Specifically to their daughter, Lysithia?”

The duke’s eyes narrowed behind his eyeglasses. “What about the girl?”

“I asked Hanneman if it was possible to have two Crests. Lysithia-”

“Two Crests?” Duke Riegan asked sharply.

“Edelgard mentioned that she herself had two Crests.”

Duke Riegan tensed, but did not interrupt again. Claude continued. “It went over my head, so I asked Professor Hanneman, who said the whole idea could never-“ Claude raised his fingers and mimed quotation marks. “-‘Occur naturally’, and their hasn’t been a single reported case of that in all of recorded history, but that’s not important. The real takeaway was that Lysithia started to get real anxious when I brought it up.”

Duke Riegan drummed his fingers. “Thread the needle.”

“Well,” Claude said, a bit of satisfaction creeping into his voice as he leaned his head back into his hands. “I don’t know much about the Hrym ordeal, but I know that the empire all but annexed Ordelia for a few years. Lysithia’s reaction implies she knows something about the apparent Crestological impossibility, but I wasn’t able to get much out of her. I get the sense it’s pretty personal.” Claude’s shin still smarted. “This says to me that there’s a connection between the two, even if they don’t know it.”

Duke Riegan closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “House Ordelia lost many children under imperial occupation. Princess Hresvelg is the last surviving child of the emperor, her siblings falling victim to an illness. Princess Hresvelg claims to have two Crests. Miss Ordelia knows something about one person having two Crests.” The duke sighed, and folded his arms. “These connections are not coincidences.”

“Maybe Lysitha and Edelgard share blood? The hair matches.” Claude mused aloud. “No, that doesn’t-“

Duke Riegan’s eyes snapped up. “What?”

Claude blinked. “What?”

“They share hair color?”

Claude blinked again. “Yes? They both have white hair…”

The duke’s fingers drummed furiously. “Neither Count or Countess Ordelia have white hair. Neither Emperor Ionius nor Princess Hresvelg’s mother had that coloration at her age.”

“I guess fifty years of court intrigue means your bound to remember something more then your own sense of self-” Claude muttered under his breath.

“My memory is as sharp as ever. As is my hearing.” Duke Riegan said.

“Sorry gramps.” Claude shifted on his feet. “So what does that all mean? I guess your not wondering what their grandparent’s coloring was…”

“I don’t know.” The duke rubbed his eyes. “A puzzle to be picked away at.” He looked at Claude again.

“It is fortunate we do not have to solely rely on your classmate.” Duke Riegan leaned back into his pillows. “In two month’s time, the roundtable is to assemble. You will be there, and we will present this case to the other members of the alliance.”

Claude raised an eyebrow. “Just with this? Even if we find some aggressive troop movement in the empire or if the bandits at Zanado spill some secrets, it isn’t much to go on. I doubt Edelgard or Hubert ever met the cutthroats. They probably have an in-between to deal with little things like that. Seems too easy to dismiss as me imagining it all. And if this roundtable goes anything like last time, with that bootstrap argument-”

“We agreed that the matter was dead and buried.” Duke Riegan cut Claude off with a glare. It reminded Claude of his mother when he tried to test his luck against her during dinner. He needed to learn that trick. “They all know. They will give protest. They will grind their teeth and stomp their feet. But during the Hyrm rebellion, we came dangerously close to war. The other members know this. This news will not shock them. You and I will confront Count Ordelia before the conference over this twin Crest matter. With the information you have given us, I will make certain that we will start with his vote in our back pocket. I am confident in our ability to get what we want out of the other members.”

“What about the church and kingdom? You think we should tell them anything?”

“We will discuss that at the roundtable, after I guide us through the initial chaos.” Duke Reigan assured.

“That’s assuming you’re going to be well enough to stand for the roundtable.” Claude said as he leaned forward.

Duke Riegan adjusted his spectacles, hiding his eyes behind the gleam of sunlight peaking through the windows. The old man had been practicing the move. “What are you implying?”

“Hey, I hear the maids gossiping. You’ve been getting worse all month, and Gertrude tells me that they have to force the medicine down your throat.”

Duke Reigan rolled his eyes. “I’d rather die on my own terms then swallow any more of that sludge, thank you. Besides, this is just a cold. You really must stop listening to gossip. Gertrude can’t help herself from exaggerating.”

“A cold that’s gone strong for two months now. Who’s to say it won’t linger for two more? And besides,” Claude stepped closer to the count, fingers brushing at the parchment piled on the bedside. “I don’t need Gertrude to tell me that if the sickness doesn’t kill you, your workload will do the trick.”

“It’s almost like you reported a war is on the horizon.” Duke Riegan’s stare bore down on Claude with decades of experience.

Claude held his ground. “So you’re worried about the coming fight, have admitted we are in a weak position, and your plan to hold off the tides of war is to work yourself into an early grave before the first battle is so much a twinkle in the empire’s eye?”

The two held each other’s eyes for a few moments more. “C’mon, gramps. Send some of that stuff to me. Or Judith. She knows her way around spy networks.”

Finally, Duke Riegan sighed, taking his glasses off to rub the bridge of his nose. “Yes, fine. I will make certain that I am in good heath for the meeting. I will allow you and Lady Judith to shoulder some of the burden.”

“Great! But you still need to take your medicine.”

Duke Riegan waved him off. “Gertrude controls my doses. She’s out running errands now. I’ll take it later.”

“Funny thing about that,” Claude said, and pulled a vial out of his pocket. “She left me this, just for you.”

Duke Riegan shot Claude a murderous look, before snatching the vial, and forcing the liquid down his sickly throat. After swallowing, the duke made a face like he wanted to wretch, and all but threw the empty vial back to Claude. “There. I drank the poison. You’re one step closer to the title of duke. Now leave me to my misery.”

“Love you to, gramps.” Claude turned and walked to the door.

“Claude.” The duke called after him. He turned.

“Yes?”

“Good work. We are in your debt.”

Claude blinked. “Oh…Thanks, gramps.”

“You are welcome.”

Claude closed the door behind him, and scratched his head in thought. If he recalled correctly, that conversation had been the first time his grandfather had ever thanked him. Claude wasn’t sure what that said about their relationship.

“There you are, you slippery little brat!” Claude was torn from his thoughts by Judith’s thundering voice. She stomped through Riegan halls liked she owned the place, boots clacking against the stone floors.

“Hey, Judith-“

“That’s Lady Judith to you, boy. And I’ve been looking all over for you. That performance at the docks against those rabble-rousers was pathetic. I’m going to hammer in some lessons you should have already learned.”

Claude sighed. “Professor Hanneman-“

“Shouldn’t have to teach you to stick with your friends, I’m glad you agree. So I’ll do him a favor and drill it to you.” Judith grabbed Claude, yanking his head close. “Especially if what you wrote to me is true. We don’t have time for you to form bad habits. Understood?”

Claude groaned. “Yes Lady Judith…”

Hours later, Claude collapsed into his bed; envying how easy fighting bandits must be for the Blue Lions.

* * *

Dimitri struggled on his knees as he held back the massive wolf’s claws from impaling him through the chest and smashing Felix’s unconscious body. He could hear Dedue shouting through the chaos, his friend bashing at the creature’s snout. The winds howled as Annette cast spell after spell against the demon’s hide, but the multitude of cuts were still not enough to fell the creature.

Dimitri bit his lip, as he saw the wolf raise its left paw to strike at Dedue, and seized his chance. With a mighty shove, the prince threw the paw he had held back to the side, catching the beast by surprise and causing it to lose balance. The wolf stumbled, snarling and gnashing as it fell on its flank. Dimitri had no time to pause for breath as he grabbed his lance and plunged it into the beast’s heart with the last of his strength. The wolf gave a terrible howl, desperate and flailing, before letting out a whine. Finally it stilled, it’s legs dropping to the ground and it’s heavy, laboring breaths ceased. The beast was dead.

Dimitri panted, falling to his knees. Dedue rushed to his side, and Annette had grabbed Felix, trying to shake him awake. Mercedes was running towards their small group, a healing spell alight in her hands. Across the rocky canyon, Ingrid and Sylvain kept a great vulture at bay as Ashe peppered it with arrows. Not a moment later, Alois leapt from a tall rock, goring the winged beast across the chest. It shrieked, before falling down a cliff face, the sound of fragile wing bones snapping accompanied the great thud as it landed. In the distance, Dimitri could see the Knights of Serios subduing two other Demonic Beasts. The battle seemed stable. All that remained was finding Byleth.

Suddenly, he heard Mercedes scream.

He turned back to look, and saw one of the vultures bearing down on his classmate. Anette was screaming back, clutching Felix. Dedue had turned, and was running in vain to shield her. Alois’ eyes were wide as he shouted something Dimitri couldn’t hear.

The beast paid them no mind, diving madly. All Mercedes could do was stare wide-eyed with the rest of her class as the vulture closed in.

A dark shape jumped over Dimitri’s head, barreling towards his fallen classmate. A knight covered in blackest armor rode on a midnight steed, scythe raised and glistening sharp. The horse sprung up, very nearly flying through the air as the knight swung his scythe upward, gorged the vulture’s eye. It shrieked, and crashed into the ground. The knight circled around, before letting his weapon split through the downed creature’s skull in a single stroke. The battlefield fell silent.

Slowly, Mercedes rose, and approached the strange knight. Now that Dimitri got a good look at her savior, he could see a tattered black cloak was wrapped around jutting, bladed pauldrons. The helm had the face of a skull chiseled in, and glowing red eyes bore down at whatever met this knight’s gaze. Two curving horns rested atop the horseman’s head.

Mercedes still approached, even as the knight’s glowing red stare came down on her. Softly, she spoke.

“Thank you for saving me, Sir Knight.”

The knight didn’t react to her words, and continued to stare. Mercedes continued, afraid but not cowed. “Might I have the name of the man who saved me? I don’t have much, but I would be glad to repay you.”

Still the knight did not react. Alois had slowly approached, axe held at his side.

“I share my student’s gratitude, Sir Knight, but I must ask. Why are you here? Zanado is a sacred place. Not just anyone is allowed in.”

The knight finally broke his gaze away from Mercedes, turning back to the canyon. Finally, he spoke, with a deep, rumbling, almost metallic voice. **“I came here to witness power with no equal.”**

“I’m…flattered? But-“ Alois began.

 **“Not from you weaklings.”** The knight pointed out to a trail. **“From her.”**

Everyone looked to where the knight pointed. At first, Dimitri could see nothing, but slowly, a crown of mint green hair rose from the canyon path. Byleth had returned, unharmed and unblemished, though without her blade.

“Professor!” Exclaimed Dimitri. “Your alive! I had thought, after you jumped…I-“ Dimitri hesitated. “I wasn’t sure what to think.”

Byleth met Dimitri’s eyes for a moment as she passed by him. “Thank you for your concern, Dimitri.” Her eyes slid away to meet the knight’s burning stare, unblinking. “Are you satisfied?”

Dimitri could sense the knight’s eyes narrow. **“One escaped you.”**

“I suggested not setting a horde loose in the first place.” Byleth replied. A static tension fell between the two as they continued to stare each other down.

Finally, the knight broke his gaze, looking back one more time to Mercedes. She shifted uncomfortably, confusion in her eyes. The knight let her go, turning back to Byleth. **“Next time, we will meet in battle.”** With those words, the knight teleported away, leaving only his stead’s hoof prints.

“Professor!” Dimitri exclaimed, shaking off his confusion. “That knight…did he just admit to summoning these monsters?”

“Yes. I met him before. He appeared again deeper in the canyon. He said he wanted to see my limits.”

“Yes, he mentioned that.” Dedue said as he walked over with the rest of the Blue Lions and Knights of Serios. “What did this knight mean? Who is he?”

“He calls himself the Death Knight.” Byleth sighed. “You did well to kill six of the creatures.”

“Six? I guess we did...” Ingrid said as she looked around, counting corpses. “Then there was that one killed by that knight…why did I think there were more?”

“Uh…I think that’s why.” Sylvain said. He had walked to the ledge, and was pointing to the canyon below, eyes wide in shock. The rest of the group walked towards the ledge, and gasped.

Lying on the canyon floor were the bodies of ten more demonic beasts. Cuts littered their exposed bellies, and the scorch marks across their flesh implied powerful holy magic had been cast. Weapons taken from fallen bandits were buried into the beast’s bodies, and shattered rock lay strewn across the battlefield.

Dimitri turned back to Byleth. Her expression could not quite be called exasperated. “Professor,” he breathed. “You…you killed all of these beasts? By yourself?”

“I would have rather not received so much attention, but I suppose it can’t be helped.” Byleth said distantly. “I’ll need a new sword.”

Dimitri turned back to look in awe with the rest of his class. He had known how skilled Byleth was before, but this was something else entirely. To defeat so many demonic beasts without any aid was not something even the most powerful knights could brag about. Byleth’s command of magic also seemed incredible, yet another skill above and beyond anything Dimitri had seen. But this should be impossible. Byleth couldn’t be older then twenty-five years. No one could grow so strong in such a short life, could they? Even with a major Crest this should be impossible, shouldn’t it?

Thoughts swirled in Dimitri’s mind, but for now, all he could do was stare in awe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cindered Shadows screwed up a few things. I've gone back and edited previous chapters with Sitri's name. Some editing done to chapter 7 for clarity. Will be working info and events into future chapter's outlines.
> 
> Gave a few side characters personalities. They may or may not be used to throw rocks at the ones we care about.
> 
> Also, this chapter refused to stop being written (I'll let you guess which part took the longest, and it may not be the one you expect) The next chapter will be shorter.
> 
> Until next time. Kudos feed a writer's soul.


	9. Gazing at Sirius

**23 rd of the Great Tree Moon**

Dawn would break in a precious few hours. Rhea had passed through long abandoned passages not even the Abyssians had found to reach the chamber unseen. Sitri was there, suspended in time.

An hour had passed. Rhea stood before the door. All that separated the archbishop from her twelfth was a gentle push of the handle.

Rhea felt her fist clench. She turned away, ascending back to the monastery.

* * *

Rhea didn’t speak as Seteth herded her into the office, and didn’t hear a word Seteth threw at her.

It had been a simple exchange. One fading life for a chance to reignite another that had been robbed of the chance to experience the small miracle of existence. It was another chance for Rhea to see her mother again. A simple problem with a simple answer.

But why did Rhea’s heart ache when she thought about it?

Sitri had lived a life fuller then many with her constitution. She had every need taken care of in her youth, and had received the best education someone could. Her twelfth had even found love, short and bittersweet as it was. When Sitri had held her living child for the first and last time, she had smiled, and died happy. That was still more happiness than so many poor souls Rhea had seen pass through Garreg Mach in the millennia since it’s founding.

Jeralt’s return was a reason for the ache. Rhea had never given him the explanation he was due.

Then there was Byleth, the spitting image of her twelfth. Blessed by the Goddess, and assigned a fate Rhea could barely imagine, cursed with a cruelty even Rhea did not think even the Agarthans were capable of. Even a day later, she trembled at the ease at which Byleth had admitted to destroying all that remained of Sothis.

Was this some punishment for Rhea’s hubris? Some unseen equal to her mother, another god long forgotten making the world suffer for Rhea’s mistakes?

But that couldn’t be. Sothis deserved to return to the world. Rhea couldn’t understand why anyone who knew anything about her mother could oppose her resurrection. She supposed it could be a punishment for her many failures. But Rhea had always corrected the problem after she stumbled. She killed Nemesis. She made sure there would never be another perversion like her first attempt gone awry at Garreg Mach’s dawn. She had kept the continent at peace as best as anyone could across the centuries.

“I did what I thought was right. I always did.” Rhea muttered under her breath.

“IT WASN’T!” Seteth shouted as he slammed his hands down on the table. Rhea nearly jumped out of her seat. She had forgotten he had been speaking. “You sound like the Agarthans when they rebuffed Sothis’ warning of the terrible price their magic would reap!”

Rhea felt her anger burn hot. “This has nothing to do with those atrocities!” Rhea spat out. “I would never sacrifice hundreds upon thousands like they did. There are a thousand different ways this isn’t remotely comparable to the _abominations_ the Agarthans unleashed. How can you dare to accuse me of such…depravity?”

Seteth took a deep breath, before rubbing his temples. “Yes, you are correct. Calling your experiments necromancy was a bridge to far. I apologize.” Seteth looked Rhea in the eye. “But that was not my point. You have been keeping things from me.” He leaned on the edge of his seat. “Important things. Nigh-futile efforts. You seem indifferent to the potential consequences. For centuries, at the very least.”

Rhea’s eyes smoldered, but she let her anger subside. “Yes, I apologize.”

Seteth stood. “From now on, you will not hide anything from me.”

“Yes.”

“You should have let her rest in peace.” With those words, Rhea felt her anger crystalize.

Rest in peace? All that had been left of her mother was a blade that had been used to destroy the harmony she had built for the world after stupid, foolish men destroyed it all. Sothis had been reduced to a twisted, loathsome mockery of everything she had fought for, while the bones of her children were used to wage human’s petty, stupid wars. How could Cichol not see that her mother could never have peace unless her daughter brought her back from such a wretched fate?

Then, he was stomping down the hallway, with Cethleann shouting after him. Distantly, Rhea realized the man had been arguing with his daughter just outside the door. Rhea pushed open the door to her office, and saw Cethleann staring in indignation as Cichol stalked away to his office.

“Cethleann?”

The girl froze, before spinning on her feet, eyes wide. Then her shoulders relaxed.

“Lady Rhea, please, not here!”

Rhea blinked. “Ah. Yes. My apologies. When I reminisce, I forget myself.”

“It’s alright, Lady Rhea. At least no one was around to hear it.”

“Yes…” Rhea cocked her head. Looking down at the girl. “Were you trying to listen in?”

Cethleann scowled- no. _Flayn_ scowled as she brought her hands to her hips. “My brother is always trying to hide things from me. Like I’d wither away into dust if I found something twelve-year-olds pretend not to know.”

“Your brother is simply trying to protect you.”

“Please, don’t you start too!” Flayn’s expression softened then. “It is just- I saw that woman. The one you spoke to yesterday. She looks so much like us.“

Flayn stepped forward, bold and uncertain all at once. “Lady Rhea, I beg of you. Don’t hide me from the world like my- like Seteth. Tell me what is happening, please! I fought in the war too! I saw countless horrors.” Flayn took a breath, calming herself before continuing. “I can endure the pain your secrets secrets might inflict upon me! Please, tell me, that woman Byleth-“ Flayn paused, suddenly nervous.

“Are there more of us? Are we precious few no longer so alone?”

Rhea stood before Flayn as the younger Child of the Goddess looked up, a hopeful fear in her eyes. Rhea’s hand tightened into a fist.

“…Dear Flayn, how many years has it been since we spoke candidly to another? Do you recall?”

Flayn looked down at her feet. “Just after my mother died. It was…good to hear from someone other then…Seteth.” Flayn looked up again. “Do you remember what you told me? That no matter what, so long as we tried to make things right, the pain caused by others isn’t our fault. Do you still believe that?”

Rhea wanted to believe it. “So very much.” She said.

* * *

**27 th of the Great Tree Moon**

Rhea stood atop the steps, looking down at the graveyard. Jeralt stood in front of Sitri’s gravestone, looking down at the weathered rock.

He turned and walked up the stairs with eyes downcast. As he reached the top, Jeralt lifted his head and looked Rhea in the eyes.

Rhea tried to say something. It died on her lips. Jeralt waited a few moments more, and then walked away.

Rhea turned back to the gravestone. All that separated the archbishop from her twelfth’s false grave was a few steps.

Rhea took them one at a time. When she arrived in front of the stone, she saw that Sitri’s name had been worn away by time and indifference.

* * *

**14 th of the Garland Moon**

“And then he said I would be doomed to misfortune if I approached the young man!” Flayn exclaimed. “Is that true, Lady Rhea?”

“I have met a few such people in my years.” Rhea said as she leaned against the balcony, overlooking Garreg Mach. She had begun speaking to Flayn regularly. Mostly, Rhea would listen to the girl speak about her daily life, and then offer her advice on any trouble Flayn found herself with. Rhea found the talks stabilizing, a rock in her demanding schedule and the unformed ground Byleth had forced her to tread.

“You always say something like that.” Flayn pouted. “You never commit to any answer, you just speak in generalities.”

“Do I?” Rhea wondered.

“Yes! It’s quite a contrast to how you acted during the war. You were decisive in all actions, and never backed down from anything.”

“Yes, I remember.” How odd it must be for Flayn to remember things that happened millennia ago like they were yesterday, while Rhea and Seteth had to bear a thousand years of memory. “The world has changed in the passing of the millennia. Things have grown…calmer. There is less need for immediate responses. More time to think things through.”

“I suppose that is true.” Flayn said. “I have heard of recent battles, but from what I have read, it has been well over a century since the last great war.”

The two stood in silence for a while. Flayn looked out to the horizon. Rhea looked down at the bustle of Garreg Mach.

“Lady Rhea?”

“Yes?”

“Have you talked to By- Professor Byleth since she took her post?”

Rhea turned to look at Flayn. “Why do you ask?”

Flayn hid her jittering by rocking on her feet. “It’s just that…Well, I’ve heard things-“

“From her.”

Flayn gave a startled look. Rhea’s eyes drifted to the graveyard.

“-Well, it’s just…” Flayn struggled even without Rhea’s absent stare. “You’ve…changed.”

“It has been a long time. People change.” Rhea could not see Jeralt at the cemetery. She had not seen him at her twelfth’s false grave in over two weeks.

“Not just that! Ever since Byleth has arrived, you’ve become…” Flayn struggled to find the proper word. “...Distant. More then you normally are.”

“How do you mean? We speak more often now.”

“I am not speaking of the number of our conversations!” Flayn said with an irritated voice. “I’m talking about your demeanor! Every time we talk, you are always so distant! When I see you give sermons, I can barely tell if you are awake! I know it’s hard, but you taught me that I had to face the past, no matter how hard it was, and Byleth and her father are that past!” She paused for breath, and steadied herself. “It’s like you’re running from her.”

“I’m not running.” As Rhea turned back to look out at Garreg Mach, she finally spotted Jeralt, following craftsmen to the graveyard. “I’ve just learned that some things have to be done slowly.”

* * *

**23 rd of the Garland Moon**

Rhea slowly descended the stairs. Jeralt didn’t turn from his vigil. Like glass shards falling through an hourglass, Rhea forced herself to make her way to his side, and stare down at the grave.

The two didn’t look at each other. The silence stretched on.

“The artisans did a good job fixing up her headstone.”

It took a moment for Rhea to realize Jeralt had spoken. She looked to him. His eyes remained fixed on Sitri’s name.

“I brought this.” Rhea reached into her robe, and pulled out a bottle.

Jeralt took the glass, and raised it to his nose. After he breathed in, the knight let out a shudder.

“Where did you find that swill?” Jeralt hissed. “I’ve been to some dive taverns in my time, but that is too mediocre to even be called alcohol.”

“It’s from the tavern in Abyss.”

Jeralt fixed her with a stare. “That would explain the smell. But when other people give gifts, they usually try and get something nice.”

“It is…” Rhea forced herself to meet Jeralt’s eyes.

“It’s what.” His words were drier then Macuil’s hovel.

“Do you remember the 23rd of the Guardian Moon?” Jeralt’s eyebrows rose. “In 1158?” his confusion did not lift. “Sitri had smuggled out a bottle of wine to share with you.” Distant realization dawned in Jeralt’s eyes, but remained foggy.

“You two had been courting for some time, and you had just come back from that matter with Oswald von Riegan.” As Rhea spoke, Jeralt’s eyes drew back to the gravestone. “You had been telling her about smuggled Almyran wines, and Sitri had never tasted alcohol. She found her way underground, and brought a bottle to share with you.”

“She was so excited for her first drink. She said that you had forbidden it for all her life.” Jeralt’s tone had turned wistful. “We spent the night trying to hide the fact that we needed to vomit from each other. In the end, we both lost, and she never drank a drop again.” He looked back up. “How do you know any of that?”

“She had slipped away from her studies that night. I went to track her down, but found the two of you hiding away in the kitchens.”

“And then what, did you cane her for breaking the rules? You’ve always had a bad temper about that.”

“Jeralt, please. I’m not-“ _Heartless_. “-So cruel. I was young once too.”

Jeralt studied her for a moment. He drank from the bottle, and then poured a glass worth onto the grass as he fought down an urge.

“So now what?” Jeralt said. “You told me the truth. You’ve implied you’re sorry. You found the nerve to look me in the eye again. You think this makes everything right?”

Rhea pressed her lips together. “Jeralt, please-“

Jeralt didn’t let any anger spill into his voice. “You left her grave to fade to dust for twenty years, and couldn’t be bothered to fix her tombstone until weeks after I returned. You think just tiding up the stone and sharing some happy memories is going to take away from what you didn’t do? I know I was hardly around to tend to it, but I didn’t think you’d leave it here to rot!”

“I-“ Rhea looked at the headstone. It’s polished and hardy stone could last years without much maintenance. “Jeralt, that isn’t…I didn’t leave Sitri alone, I promise.”

Jeralt barely reacted. “You’re hiding something.”

“…Yes, I am.”

“You got the nerve to share?”

“It’s…something…” Rhea’s eyes fell, and her nails pressed into her palms. “You are marching to help protect the students from Lonato?”

“Seteth hired my men and I.”

“It is selfish, but…I would show you after you return. There are other important functions I must attend to, and….” Rhea bit her lip. “…Please, bring your daughter.”

Jeralt waited, but Rhea did not finish the thought. He huffed, before walking away.

Rhea walked towards her twelfth’s false grave. The artisans had done a remarkable job on the stonework. There were no elaborate decorations or design chiseled on. Sitri had little interest in extravagance.

Jeralt had left the bottle at the foot of the grave. Rhea reached down, and took a sip. It was a terrible, bitter taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, big thanks to Dox, who Beta’d this chapter!
> 
> If I’m recalling correctly, the only time Rhea and Jeralt ever share dialogue is just at the beginning of the game, and once more when he tells her that he’s reporting for duty a chapter before his death. What a waste, am I right?
> 
> And I saw the DLC try and retcon Sitri’s name onto the grave. Her name had faded away pre-patch, and I’m keeping it and making it into a plot point.
> 
> Speaking of DLC, It really kinda screwed up the flow of this chapter I had planned, plus the next few. But I have planned it out to something that’ll make sense. You’ll also start to see the Ashen Wolves pop up every now and then starting next chapter. What, exactly will be done with them is still percolating, but will settle sooner or later.
> 
> As always, leave a kudo, feed an ego!
> 
> ...Was that an Alois level bad pun?


	10. Ways Distant

**6 th of the Garland Moon**

Dimitri panted as the punching bag fell to the floor in pieces. Dedue walked forward with a damp cloth.

“Your Highness, I must ask you to calm yourself. You are pushing your body too far.”

“I know Dedue, it’s just…” Dimitri removed his gauntlets and began to rub his sore knuckles with the cloth. “I hate this feeling of powerlessness. A prince should not have to kill his own people.”

“You believe the knights will still be fighting Lonato’s men when we arrive?”

“Its not just- It’s the fact that this battle must be fought at all.” Dimitri let out a breath. “As prince, it is my sworn duty to help end the rebellion, but…”

“You worry about Ashe.”

“He has been speaking to Professor Alois about staying behind. Or coming along to try and save Lonato.” Dimitri was silent for a moment. “Whatever might keep us from spilling more innocent blood…”

Dimitri could feel Felix’s eyes aiming at the back of his head as he spoke aloud. When Dimitri turned, Felix was looking down the shaft of his arrow, before letting loose at the target. It landed three rings to the left of center. Two other arrows already in the target were only one ring away. Felix scoffed aloud, and drew another arrow.

 _Coward._ Glenn hisses.

Dimitri presses down, and a sharp pain bloomed on his knuckles. A bit of skin had broken, and blood was dripping through.

“I will fetch a healer.” Dedue said.

“Yes, I suppose that would be wise. Thank-“

“You are injured?” A harsh voice cut through. Both students looked up to see Jeritza stalking forward.

“Err...It’s just a bruise. I’ve been losing track-“

Magic sigils flared to life around Jeritza’s hand. Dimitri felt something similar to the warmth of a healing spell envelop his hand. The pain receded slightly, but nothing more. Jeritza scowled, and the sigils grew brighter.

“…Thank you, Prof-“

“Quiet.” Jeritza snapped as he tried again. Dimitri’s small wound stubbornly remained. Mercedes approached to professor with a concerned look on her face.

“You are being too forceful, Professor Jeritza. You’re casting a healing spell like it’s fire magic.” Mercedes said. “Faith magic can’t be forced, you have to let it flow.”

Jeritza didn’t turn to face her. His brow creased in concentration, and Dimitri’s wound closed.

“See? You’re a natural, Professor!” Mercedes said.

Jeritza grabbed Dimitri’s hand, inspecting his magic. Dedue took a step forward.

“I must insist that you not behave so disrespectfully to his Highness, Professor.”

Jeritza continued to inspect Dimitri’s hand. Dedue took another step forward. “Professor. Release his Highness.”

“Professor Jeritza, there’s no need to be so forceful…”

“Dedue, it isn’t-“

Jeritza finally let Dimitri’s hand fall, and inspected the magic churning in his hand. “It’s not enough…” He muttered, walking away from the three.

“…Professor Jeritza is practicing magic?” Dimitri asked.

“Yes, actually!” Mercedes beamed. “He approached me yesterday looking for tips. He already had a solid grasp of reason magic, but said he needed to learn more about faith magic.”

“Really? Did he say why he came to you, instead of a fellow professor?”

“He said that he wanted to learn faith magic because of Professor Byleth, from what I understood.” Mercedes replied. “Or that he was looking for me because he had trained with Professor Byleth…I don’t know. He was vague, and didn't give me much of an explanation.”

“Interest spurred on by tales of her from Zanado, I imagine.” Dedue said.

Mercedes nodded. “That’s what I thought too.”

Fact and myth had swept through Garreg Mach in the past few days with equal speed. Word spread of the newest professor’s extraordinary power, able to cleave through monsters with blade and magic alike. Byleth’s office hours, which had previously been quite open, were now stuffed to the brim by nearly every other student in the monastery. In the few times Dimitri had managed to spot the professor since the battle in the canyon, he had watched a throng of onlookers follow her every step. Whenever she tutored someone on the training grounds, a hush would sweep through hall as everyone tried to watch her lesson instead of their own.

Jeritza must have been inspired by Byleth’s ability to handle blade and magic alike, and sought to diversify his own skills. The man’s ability to wield both swords and lances was unquestionable, and so experimenting with magic seemed like a perfectly logical step. Though Dimitri had overheard from Caspar that the two professors had dueled often during the Great Tree Moon, with Byleth the victor each time. Perhaps this new interest in magic was some form of envy. Jeritza had enjoyed the status of the youngest, and most highly skilled skilled professor before Byleth had arrived. Now, the man had been taken out of the limelight, forced to stand in Byleth’s shadow.

Dimitri let those thoughts fade away. It wasn’t his business to pry into the professor’s private matters.

“I don’t think that’s all there was to Professor Jeritza’s request though.” Mercedes said. “I’m not sure how to describe it, but there was something familiar in his voice.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, it’s…” Mercedes’ brow creased. “I don’t know.”

The silence lingered for a moment before Dimitri put his gauntlet back on. “Professor Jeritza hasn’t been too rude with you, has he?”

“Oh, no. He’s been rather…well…” Mercedes frowned. “He hasn’t been nice, but I wouldn’t call him rude. Like I said, it’s hard to describe. If I had to put a word to it, he’s…a bit like you, Dedue.”

Dedue blinked. “Like me?”

“A bit, yes. You both don’t talk much, but I can sense you mean well. Professor Jeritza is just a bit more…” Mercedes let herself trail off. “…Angry, I think. I’m not sure why, but there is something buried in him.”

Dimitri looked up at the sky. An orange wash had settled in the clouds. “It’s getting late. We should probably go prepare for dinner.”

Dedue nodded. Mercedes perked up. Dimitri turned towards the archery range. “Felix, do you want-“ he called out, but his once friend had disappeared. Dimitri bit his lip and began cleaning up his own training area.

Mercedes put her bow away on its rack. “They’re making fish and bean soup tonight. It’s my favorite!”

Dimitri felt a thought wrinkle his brow. “Mercedes, are you going to the cathedral after dinner?”

“Yes?”

“I recall that Ashe also likes that soup…”

Mercedes face fell. “Oh, I see. Of course.”

“I’d take it myself, but I promised Professor Alois that I’d talk to him about our mission-“

“Oh, it’s no trouble Dimitri. I’d be happy to do it.”

“Thank you, Mercedes.” Dimitri sighed. “If only this were all a bad dream…”

“It’s a terrible thing.” Mercedes agreed. “Has Lady Rhea told you why Lonato is attacking the church?”

“There is still no word from Gaspard territory.”

“I’ll pray for a peaceful end.” Mercedes said.

Dimitri ran his fingers through his bangs. “I fear we will need a miracle for that.”

Mercedes hummed. “Maybe she could bring another miracle…”

“Who?”

“What? Oh!” Mercedes looked up. “I was just thinking…have you talked to Professor Byleth about the rebellion? Maybe she would know something. She’s had plenty of experience dealing with people as a mercenary. Maybe she can offer some new perspective?”

Dimitri’s eyebrow rose. “I suppose she could…but what gave you that idea?”

Mercedes held her hands together. “Well, it’s rather silly, but when you mentioned that we would need a miracle, I remembered some of the knights calling her a gift from the goddess and a miracle worker when they were gossiping.”

“The professor is undoubtedly powerful. But such strength doesn’t mean she would be able to stop this rebellion.” Dedue said.

“I know.” Mercedes nodded. “It’s just that there is so much gossip going around. And no one expected her to be strong enough to kill ten demonic beasts on her own. Maybe she can save us again.”

It was a nice thought. “I suppose there is no harm in asking. I’ll bring it up to her if I get the chance. I’ve been asking the other professors for advice, so there shouldn’t be any harm in asking for her opinion.”

“Professor Byleth has made quite the impression on the monastery.” Dedue began to move towards the doors. Dimitri and Mercedes followed.

“It’s only fair. Killing so many demonic beasts by herself without one of the Heroes' Relics is unheard of. Even Catherine isn’t so strong.” Dimitri’s feet felt light. “If anything, Professor Byleth will be given even more praise in the coming months. Such acts of bravery are sure to draw the eyes of many more nobles from all over Fódlan. Though once many of them see her face, I also imagine she’ll have to worry about fending of marriage propositions from them all as well…”

Mercedes giggled. “You sound like your planning to be among their number, Prince Dimitri.”

Dimitri’s face grew hot. “N-no! Not at all! It’s just-well, that is how many nobles think, and…” Dimitri looked away. “Well, you are a young woman with a Crest. I am tragically certain that I don’t have to explain this to you.”

Mercedes sighed, and nodded. Dimitri tried to refocus. “And anyone would want such a woman strong enough to fight off so many demons in their employ.”

“That reminds me. Have either of you heard anything about the…Death Knight?” Mercedes asked.

Dedue shook his head. Dimitri clenched his fist. “It’s worrying. We talk of how strong Professor Byleth was to be able to kill so many beasts on her own, but we know nothing of the knight who gathered all those monsters to attack in the first place.”

“He is dangerous.” Dedue mused. “I hope that he is caught before any more harm is caused.”

“Yes…” Mercedes sighed. “I suppose that would be best.”

* * *

“What, exactly, did you think you were doing? Defying my authority? Corralling a horde of demonic beasts? Revealing yourself to the knights this early?” Edelgard hissed out in a dark corner of Garreg Mach’s stables. Jeritza stared back blandly, as if she were discussing the weather. When Edelgard had returned with the Black Eagles from their excursion to Varley lands, she had not expected the monastery to be abuzz with anything more than summer bees. Instead, she had returned to tall tales of Byleth single handedly saving the Blue Lions from a horde of demonic beasts in Zanado. Worse still was the fact that rumors abounded of the Death Knight, who had apparently let the horde loose on the unsuspecting students, before saving one at the last minute in a show of force.

“Professor Byleth offered a challenge. I accepted.”

“What on earth are you talking about!” Edelgard leaned forward, drilling her eyes into Jeritza’s. “I’ve seen you two spar. You aren’t holding back. She still beats you. How is that not enough challenge? And just for future reference, how did you manage to control so many wild beasts?”

“She claimed to be stronger then anyone. Stronger then anything. I found an opportunity to test her claim, and took it.”

“How did you control the beasts?” Edelgard stressed.

A smile crept onto Jeritza’s face. “I arranged for a duel deep in Zanado. I observed that the beasts were hibernating in the cracks and shadows of the valley. It only took a little bit of blood to stir them. Then the fumes from the weakling’s battle sent them scrambling to devour the worms.”

Jeritza stared distantly as his smile curling wistfully. “To see her power unleashed was a delight. I stand no chance as I am now.”

“And what is about revealing yourself to the knights? I told you that you must remain elusive.”

Jeritza expression evened out. Edelgard waited, but he did not reply. “Jeritza. Answer me.”

“…I saw potential. It would do no good to let it go to waste.”

Edelgard stared at Jeritza. He stared back. Edelgard fought down a frustrated growl. “You will behave yourself in the coming months. You will have your fun soon enough. You will not disappear when it suits your fancy. You are not here to chase after the professor’s skirt. Am I understood?”

Jeritza’s eyes narrowed.

“Am I understood?” Edelgard said.

Jeritza gave a slow nod. “Yes.”

Edelgard straightened, and walked out of the stables. She could have told herself that Byleth was just as perplexing distraction before, but now it was clear that even if the woman had promised to not reveal her plans to the world, she would not be content to leave them untouched. Jeritza’s loyalty was being courted in the only way the man respected. That could prove disastrous. Edelgard would have to confront Byleth on the matter.

Hubert fell in beside Edelgard, steering their path towards the dormitories. “Professor Byleth is currently under the monastery, in the refugee town called Abyss.”

“We will confront her there.” Edelgard said. “Anything useful from the rumor mill?”

“I managed to find who the Death Knight revealed himself to save. Mercedes von Martritz.”

“I’ve seen her around the monastery. Jeritza didn’t find need to mention his reason for protecting her in our chat.”

“I did a little digging. As it happens, Martritz is his long lost sister. They were separated years ago, before the fall of House Bartels.”

Edelgard paused. “…I see. Does Jeritza remember?”

“If you don’t know...”

Edelgard looked back at the stables. Jeritza was combing out his horse’s mane. Edelgard resumed walking. “…We will sort that out later. Anything else?”

“The knights have finished interrogating the bandits. All they know is that the bandit leader spoke with someone in heavy armor with red and black coloring. Enough to draw a distinction between the figure and the Death Knight, but nothing useful.”

“I see…I suppose some of them were peeking through the trees to get a look at their employer?”

“That was my impression.” Unfortunate. Still, vague details were better then a clear picture.

Hubert turned down a dark alleyway. A large drain was bolted into the stonework at the alley’s end. Hubert grabbed the metal and shook. With a rusty creek, the bars came loose. Hubert nodded and Edelgard folded her red cape, tucking it away. Looking down the drain, small grooves were carved into the wall, making a rudimentary ladder. Edelgard descended, before arriving on a damp stone floor. Hubert landed shortly afterword, summoning a fire in his hand. “This way.” Hubert navigated through a small stretch of tunnels. At first the only thing Edelgard could hear were their own footsteps, but soon hushed noises began to echo off the walls.

Hubert made one final turn, and the tunnel they had been traveling through opened into a large room. People in worn clothing milled about a ramshackle market, keeping to themselves under the dim illumination of lanterns. All sorts of things from food grains and parchment to dull weaponry were placed for sale on the tables. Unwashed children ran in and out of the shadows of the makeshift streets. As Edelgard approached, people would move out of her way without a second glance, quietly going about their business. Hubert walked briskly, making his way up a set of stairs, beckoning to a figure perched on a wall. They raised two fingers and pointed to their right. Hubert followed their hand. A cry rang out. Edelgard looked over to see a merchant yelling after a thief. No one else in the sparse crowd made a sound.

“All this is underneath Garreg Mach? The church just lets a place like this exist? Rotting away beneath their very feet?”

“One more example of the church’s indifference. Though this Abyss is not unlike certain back alleys in Enbarr.”

Edelgard felt her fists clench. “The difference is I will give my people something better.”

It was then Edelgard spotted Byleth atop a vacant stairwell, talking to someone half hidden in the dark, who’s back faced Edelgard. As she approached, more and more of the professor and her companion came into view. Byleth’s hair almost glowed in the dim light, the bright color jumping out from the dark shadows. Her companion was a boy with light purple hair, and was talking quietly, leaning on the banister. Edelgard strained her ears to listen.

“Dangerous proposition, stranger.” The boy was dressed strangely. He had a uniform as if he was a house leader, but it was colored to compliment his lavender hair.

“I’m a mercenary. Don’t trust my words. Trust money.” Byleth pushed a coin into his hand, which sparkled in the dim light. Edelgard felt half a dozen eyes in the dark flash too and then from the money. “I’m just looking after family. You understand.”

The lavender-haired boy bit the coin. “Hmm. Alright. Snake knows viper. Yeah, I’ll chat. She’s been seen sneaking in and out of some of the more obscure holes. Always slips out of sight, but she’s been around.”

“Thank you. I will contact you later, and will be about the monastery if you need me.”

The lavender boy raised his eyebrow, but slid out of his spot on the railing. As he stood, the boy’s eyes stumbled into Edelgard’s. His face turned to surprise, before smoothing over into cool indifference. “Good day, Professor.”

The boy quickly faded away into the shadows, leaving Byleth alone. Edelgard stepped forward. “Family?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Forgive my intrusion.” Edelgard composed herself before pushing forward. “Professor, if I may, I recall you offering to answer my questions.”

Byleth’s hands channeled what Edelgard presumed was a silencing spell as her expression remained frustratingly blank. “I did.”

“You’ve been dueling with Professor Jeritza, correct?”

“On the 31st of Harpstring Moon, as you imply.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Because he asked.”

Edelgard stared dumbly. Byleth blinked. “That’s it? He asked?”

“Yes.”

“You revealed yourself to be more powerful then any one Knight of Serios to Garreg Mach-no, to the world just because Jeritza asked? First of all, I must ask you plainly, are you trying to undermine my command?” Edelgard’s eyes narrowed. “And if your gift for remembering is as exact as you say it is, surely you must have known about the beasts. Why would you risk so many students and knights over a simple rivalry? From what I hear, many knights were hurt, and a student was almost killed!”

“I have no interest in keeping Jeritza on a leash. I did know about the beasts. They have a habit of gathering in Zanado.” Byleth’s voice was it’s same calm, familiar emotionless nothing it had been at the start of the conversation. “I indulged Jeritza because he becomes very impulsive when he doesn’t get some form of relief. It wasn’t a sure thing that he’d set them loose on the students and knights, but even if he did, I had all confidence in my ability to shield those involved from any true danger.”

Edelgard slowly processed Byleth’s words. “And revealing yourself to Fódlan?”

“I am used to ignoring petitioners, no matter how self important they are. I have nothing to fear from Rhea. As for Thales…” Byleth tilted her head to the side. “I told Jeritza that I am powerful without equal. Even disregarding my knowledge of everyone’s motives, resources and fighting styles that is not a boast. No matter what he tells you.”

Edelgard stared. The sheer brazenness of the statement caught her off guard. More disturbingly, she could feel that the statement was true. It was that strange feeling of familiarity creeping up her spine, an instinct telling her she already knew Byleth that had been creeping up in Edelgard's spine. It was concerning. She had felt similarly before, but never with this level of certainty. The closest point of comparison was when she sometimes talked to-

“Professor! Edelgard! Hubert! What are you doing down here?”

Dimitri approached, his deep blue house leader cape aflutter in the dark, drawing the eyes of vagabonds and lost souls. His retainer walked behind him with an eye over his shoulder.

“Dimitri? I-what are you doing in this place?”

“I heard about Abyss and wanted to see it for myself. Plus Dedue had business.”

Edelgard let her surprise fade. “I came for much the same reason. I heard of Abyss, and wished to explore.”

Dimitri nodded. “And you professor?”

“It’s one of the few places I’m not constantly pestered.”

Dimitri huffed. “I understand. It must be nice-“ A frown crossed his face. “Oh, I’m doing it too, aren’t I? Intruding into a private conversation. My apologies, professor.”

Byleth looked at Edelgard, raising an eyebrow. Edelgard bit her lip. Byleth’s answers so far were distressingly simple. Edelgard wondered if she might be able to make headway by letting Dimitri lead. She realized she hadn’t seen Byleth interact with other people very much, other then engaging in polite deflection with Claude. “No, it’s fine. We weren’t talking about anything important.”

“I see. Still, I apologize for intruding.”

“It’s no trouble. You mentioned your retainer had business here?”

Dimitri blinked, before looking over his shoulder. Dedue replied smoothly. “There is a shrine to the Gods of Duscur here. I came to offer my prayers.”

Dimitri sighed. “In truth, I came to give mine as well. I thought it couldn’t hurt, given the current crisis.”

Edelgard gave a nod in sympathy. “I understand. This rebellion must weigh heaviest on you most of all.”

Dimitri looked down, eyes lost in the grime at his feet. “Yes.” A spark lit in his eyes, and he looked back up. “Professor, I wanted to ask. Do you have any advice on how to solve this situation? Any insight on how to stop Lonato’s rebellion without spilling innocent blood?”

Edelgard turned to look at Byleth, eyebrow raised, making sure not to show any tension in her shoulders. Byleth’s actions so far had no failed to surprise, and she had already saved the Blue Lions once. Surely she would have some subtle scheme to keep Lonato and his soldiers alive and placated. The only problem would be how much this might affect the raid on the holy tomb that Edelgard doubted would remain a surprise for long. It would require a new plan-

“I’m sorry Dimitri, I don’t know anything that Professor Alois or Lady Rhea might have already told you.”

Edelgard barely managed to hide her surprise. Looking at Hubert, her retainer was similarly shocked.

Dimitri nodded mutely. “I understand. I’ve been looking for an answer somewhere, and when not even Lady Rhea has any insight…”

“You have my apologies, for whatever they are worth.”

Dimitri shook his head one last time. “No Professor, I shouldn’t expect anything of you. It was just wishful thinking on my part.” He turned to leave. “My apologies for interrupting you. Professor. Edelgard. Hubert.” With that, Dimitri and Dedue slipped away into Abyss.

Edelgard turned back to face Byleth, studying her. Byleth stared back, face blank, but hidden in her eyes was something.

“Was there anything else?” An age was sneaking into her voice too.

Byleth clearly knew what exactly Lonato was rebelling against. What exactly he had been manipulated into doing. Yet here she was, not lifting a finger to change it.

“Do you plan to ride out and stop the battle yourself somehow? Or by some other proxy?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell me why?”

Against the uneven glow of candlelight, Edelgard thought she saw Byleth flinch. “It’s something you may already understand.”

Edelgard’s eyebrows furrowed. “Then there is nothing to speak of now.” She locked eyes with Hubert, and departed for the surface.

Byleth seemed ready to sacrifice Lonato and Dimitri’s peace of mind for some purpose. What, exactly, Edelgard didn’t know, and doubted Byleth would simply tell her. No matter. If Byleth would let the wind carry her aloft, Edelgard would comply. For now. Edelgard would forge her own future, and no one, not Rhea, Thales, or Byleth would stop her.

* * *

**31 st of Garland Moon**

The Blue Lions marched. Lonato attacked. The dead screamed louder.

* * *

**2 nd of Blue Sea Moon**

“C’mon Teach, I got an important meeting coming up, and that dastardly old bird isn’t coughing anything up. Can’t you give me anything?” Claude was leaning against a bookshelf in Hanneman’s laboratory. Byleth was mixing a potion, hardly paying him any mind.

“The bandits’ testimony’s-“

“Yeah, someone with expensive tastes in armor, money to spare and teleportation magic. Doesn’t really narrow it down. You set me off on this little quest, give me something.”

Byleth carefully poured her mixture into a flask, before sealing it. “We’ll talk later. Until then, I have important business.”

“But-“

“Later Claude.”

No game of words. She really was busy. Claude huffed, and left the laboratory. It wasn’t like he was asking for much. The empire still hadn’t started moving any pieces as far as the spies could find, and though Claude could definitely say the added workload would have put his grandfather in an early grave, that didn’t mean he had to appreciate how much time even a fraction of it took from him. Plus the fact that his efforts to scope out the other table members through their children had been less then successful left Claude feeling more then a little frustrated.

Claude turned to the training grounds, intent on blowing off some steam. Picking up a bow from the rack, he spotted Dimitri practicing his lance forms. The prince was moving quite listlessly, as if he were barely awake. Claude twirled an arrow in his hand, before walking towards the prince.

“Hey Dimitri. Bad day?”

Dimitri gave a start. “Huh- oh, Claude. You surprised me.” Settling his lance at his side, Dimitri put on a stoic look. “Yes. I’m still thinking about Lonato’s rebellion. Even with the rumors of assassination, I can’t just…”

Claude nodded. “I understand. I’d feel the same in your position.”

“It’s just…” Dimitri bit his lip. “Lonato and his men weren’t even interested in talking. I sought the advice of everyone, from the archbishop, all the professors, and Lord Rodrigue…”

Claude felt a feeling of perplexity wash over him. This seemed like the thing future sight was good at avoiding. “Even Captain Jeralt and Professor Byleth?”

“Yes, even them.” Dimitri was apparently so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even find Claude’s little question odd. And Byleth had apparently done nothing to stop the whole mess, even though she very easily could have in Claude’s estimation. That didn’t sit right with him. And from the way Dimitri was reacting, Claude began to something: Byleth hadn’t told Dimitri anything.

She’d told Claude so much yet so very little, and of course the professor had shared with Edelgard. Rhea had also apparently learned something, as even Claude could tell she was just going through the motions most of the time he saw her perform any given religious rite.

But DImitri seemed totally oblivious to Byleth’s status as a prophet. No cursing her for not giving proper foreknowledge, no hounding her for explanations of future events. From what Claude could tell, he wasn’t even hiding away from the professor for fear of what might be said.

Claude would normally expect some sort of ruse, some mask of indifference like he and Edelgard wore. But Claude had come to what he hoped was a decent read on the prince. Dimitri wore his emotions on his sleeve. Anything the prince tried to hide would be painfully obvious to anyone who had the inclination to look, and right now, Dimitri wasn't capable of anything but honesty. And for whatever reason, it seemed Byleth had decided not to share her future knowledge with Dimitri.

Claude felt a dangerous idea strike him. It was risky, but he could probably do it without dropping any important details that might set Dimitri off, as Byleth warned those moons ago. Plus, he’d be able to get a favor out of Dimitri, no small thing. Furthermore, if Byleth learned that she could just get away with sacrificing people she could probably save with no consequences, that could give her the wrong impression about Claude and his friends. Because really, who would he be without Hilda to not do what he said or Lorenz to backtalk every decision he made? And if he was wrong and Byleth had shared something with the prince, he and Dimitri could have a little secret to share. Groundwork for a future alliance in a worst-case scenario.

Besides, after making no tangible headway with the preparation for the roundtable, Claude was feeling more then a little petty.

“Say Dimitri, I’m going to tell you something crazy…”

Really, What was the worst that could happen? Claude knew what he was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thanks to Dox for beta reading!
> 
> Also, we've hit 10 chapters! 270 kudos, over 40 bookmarks, and just above 4K pageviews! Thanks to you all for your interest and support, and I'll hope to see you all and more for then next 10!
> 
> Byleth POV next chapter for those waiting, I promise. This should be the last chapter really affected by the turns the DLC put in the script. Also fixed some wrong dates in Chapter 9.
> 
> Until next time, internet points are always appreciated, and cost nothing!


	11. Song of the Forgotten

**2nd of Blue Sea Moon**

Byleth walked quietly through the stone corridor, a trick of white magic floating alongside her to provide illumination. Jeralt followed with nervous footfalls.

Left at the crumbling fresco of Saint Seiros, then right at the rusted chamber pot. Forward until the corridor branches into two paths, then turn around to the door hidden behind the corner.

“How can you possibly navigate this mess? I worked for Rhea one hundred years and I thought Abyss should have ended twenty minutes ago.” Jeralt leaned down under a particularly short archway.

 _It’s true._ Sothis murmured as she floated alongside Byleth. _We’ve never traveled this far down together._

Sothis. Ever present. Her forgetful guide. A past life. An echo of long forgotten memories. A reminder of everything she had been both in millennia past, and when the world was new to her. Who Byleth once was, and who she would become. Again. And again. And again.

“Repeat an action often enough and you don’t have to remember.” Byleth brushed cobwebs aside. Jeralt took a breath like he was about to speak, but bit back his tongue.

“Say your piece.”

Jeralt let out a hiss. “You say these things so casually. It…” He sucked in another breath. “At this point, I know better than to think what you say is wrong, but if what you say is down here is, and if what you say is about to happen is really going to happen…” A hand landed on Byleth’s shoulder. She turned to face Jeralt. He was not crying yet. “…It breaks my heart, you know. You must know.”

She did. But no one else had to worry about that. “Do you want to leave?”

Jeralt looked at Byleth for a time. His hand slid of her shoulder. “No. I want to, but…” another sucked breath. “No.”

Byleth wrapped her hand around Jeralt’s, and continued to walk. Soon, they approached a small door. Rhea stood next to it, ready to pace back and forth. Her eyes shot up as they approached, and her lips thinned.

The three stood there, Jeralt and Rhea unsure how to proceed.

 _Open the door!_ Sothis barked. _This won’t end unless someone does something!_

Byleth was unmoved. _We four have no reason to be impatient. Let them come to it._

Sothis huffed, crossing her arms and looking away. Byleth let the silence linger.

Rhea bit her lip. “…Before we enter, I must warn you. What is in this room-“

“I know.” Jeralt interrupted.

Rhea blinked, before looking at Byleth. “I see.”

The two looked at the door. Neither made a move to open it. Jeralt walked towards the wooden frame. Two paces away he stopped to look at Byleth. She gave a nod. Jeralt turned to Rhea, and waited.

Rhea placed her hand on the doorknob, and then stopped herself from looking back. Inch by inch, she forced the doorknob to turn, each degree giving a low creak. With a terrible finality, Rhea pushed open the door, before turning haunted eyes to Jeralt. The two shared a look of dread, before Jeralt stepped into the room. Rhea followed with trepidation. Byleth calmly followed after the two, closing the door behind her.

The room had the same faint green glow of ghostly lights Rhea had installed to watch over the holy tomb. The stonework was a cool black that reflected a dark green light, giving the entire room a pale glow. Jeralt paid the alien design little mind, and took step after step after step, until he found himself in front of the room’s central dais. Rhea moved mechanically, almost gliding across the floor, before ending a few paces behind Jeralt. Byleth walked just behind her father, looking down at her mother’s corpse, untouched by the ravages of time.

Sitri still wore her white gown, as she always did. When Byleth had first asked Rhea why she had dressed the woman in those clothes for her eternal rest, Rhea always said she couldn’t remember. Her father had told her so many lives ago that it was the dress she had worn to their wedding.

Jeralt reached out, hand shaking. His fingers touched Sitri’s cheek, and he realized that she was truly there. His hand slowly descended down her face, cupping her chin. His other hand reached, out, and gently stroked her hair.

Byleth did not need to turn to see Rhea trying and failing to reach out and touch Jeralt’s shoulder. Sothis hovered closer, looking down on her previous vessel, recognition sparking in her eyes.

The room was still. To some, it might seem as though time had frozen in the room. Jeralt continued to stare down into Sitri’s unmoving face. Rhea kept her distance. Sothis looked at the scene with quiet fascination.

Jeralt had been humming softly. Tears had begun to flow down his face. He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on Sitri’s cold forehead. As he leaned backward, the words grew loud enough for Rhea to hear.

“I still hear her voice, when there’s no sound…”

Rhea had a habit of speaking to herself. Byleth wasn’t sure when she picked it up. She had always been tight lipped in Sothis’ memory. “All the rest is gone, he’s not around…”

Jeralt turned around, surprise etched on his face. “Where- when did she tell you…”

Rhea shared his expression. “Ah. She…would hum the song whenever you marched out in the…last two years.”

Jeralt shared a pensive look with Rhea, before turning back to stroke Sitri’s hair for a few moments longer. His hands finally retreated to his sides. Jeralt let out one final sigh, and turned around. He locked eyes with Byleth. She nodded, and took his place, standing next to Sitri. Jeralt looked at the back of Byleth’s head for a few moments, before facing Rhea.

“…She’s just been like this? For twenty years?”

“Yes…when I was preparing her body, I discovered that there were no signs of decay…”

Byleth looked down at her mother’s corpse as she listened in to Jeralt question Rhea. She had long since lost any desire to see her Sitri's body, but it made Jeralt happy. It made Rhea feel happy.

“Byleth said all the same things you’ve said. It’s reason enough to trust you. On this.”

Byleth’s two relatives were on a path to reconciling. It was a small happenstance she was happy to arrange for them.

After all, what she was about to do would hurt them both all over again.

 _Must you do this?_ Sothis pressed. _This is more than some rock or trinket of gold. She was your mother._

 _Yes._ Byleth let out a resigned sigh. _If I do not, no one will ever be able to let go until it is far too late._

_But she would hate him now for what he has done! What he has planned! I would!_

_Enough to call for his death? For something he has yet to commit to? Do you remember her memories so well?_

Sothis fell silent, looking down at Sitri. Byleth glanced at the door. It would just be a few more moments. Rhea and Jeralt had fallen silent, and were trying to not make eye contact. Byleth quietly cast her spell, ignored Sothis’ cry of protest, and closed her eyes, counting to ten.

A creak echoed from the door. Jeralt and Rhea’s heads both snapped to the sound. The door slowly opened, and Aelfric, surprise and astonishment playing across his face, all but tumbled into the room.

No one made a sound. Jeralt and Rhea both stared at Aelfric, confused looks on their faces. Aelfric’s eyes darted between the two, Byleth, and Sitri’s remains.

“I- You-“ Aelfric’s bewilderment was plain to see. “I- it’s-“

“…Aelfric? Is that you?” Jeralt asked.

“Yes-yes, it’s me.” Aelfric grabbed onto Jeralt’s words to ground himself. “I- I had hoped we would reunite in happier circumstances Jeralt, but…”

“How long have you known about this place?” Rhea asked.

Aelfric studied Rhea’s face for a moment. He was looking for some sign that Rhea was about to crush him. She wasn’t. Rhea only suspected something was wrong with him at this point. Calming himself, Aelfric replied.

“Almost ten years now. At first I thought it was some strange dream, but I kept returning, and Sitri remained, so….”

“I see.” an inquisitive gleam returned to Rhea’s eye. “And you have told no one? Done nothing?”

Aelfric swallowed, looking to Sitri. “You were the only one who could have moved her here, Archbishop. I presumed you wished for some manner of privacy. I was quite content to keep her location secret. I only returned on occasion to pay respects, or reminisce on happier days.”

Jeralt turned to face Byleth, eyebrow raised. “Funny coincidence that we run into each other now.”

Byleth blinked back at Jeralt.

“Y-yes. A happy quirk of fate, let us call it.” Aelfric adjusted his collar. “Still, I imagine it best for me to allow you some time alone to mourn.”

“I had a question, actually.” Byleth spoke up. Rhea and Aelfric’s head jerked to hers. “Why is my mother’s body so perfectly preserved?”

Rhea stared at Byleth, uncomprehending. Aelfric looked between the two, the gears in his head slowly turning. Jeralt looked at Byleth, trying to understand what she was doing.

Aelfric found the courage to speak first. “I agree with the child, Lady Rhea. I have often wondered the same.” A nervous edge entered his voice, and he grew bolder. “How can she remain so perfectly preserved? All that seems missing from her body is a heartbeat.”

Rhea looked at Aelfric. A determined glint had entered his eye, and his posture pressed forward, tensing as he waited. She turned to Jeralt, who was watching Rhea, confused, dreading, and resigned all at once. She looked at Byleth once more, who stared back.

“…You undoubtedly know the answer.”

Byleth ignored Aelfric’s confused stare. “I do. But others do not.”

Rhea bit her lip. “…Very well. It has nothing to do with any magic or preservatives I supplied. I can only speculate, but her body’s endurance must be a result of Sitri’s Crest.”

Aelfric’s eyebrows knitted together. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. What Crest could preserve a body for twenty years?”

“The Crest of Flames.” Jeralt supplied. Aelfric’s eyes shot open.

“I’ve never-but I thought-“

“I instructed her not to mention her crest to anyone, lest unwanted attention come crashing down from every noble in Fódlan and beyond.” Rhea said.

Aelfric’s brow furrowed. “Yes, I…I suppose that would be prudent.” A flash or realization passed over his eyes, and he looked up to Byleth. “You are her daughter, and Rhea said that you would know best. Does that mean…”

Byleth summoned her Crest in her hand. Aelfric looked up in wonder.

“So how exactly does having the Crest of Flames keep Sitri from rotting away?” Jeralt looked between Rhea and Byleth.

“Despite what the name suggests, the Crest of Flames has no particular power over fire. Instead, it has domain is over time.” Rhea said. “Somehow, her crest has kept away any signs of rot even after death.”

Byleth nodded along. The back and forth was progressing as it always did. Soon Aelfric would let his boldness get the better of his restraint, and a very uncomfortable question would be laid at Rhea’s feet.

 _It’s not too late!_ Sothis pleaded. _There is still time to take back the spell! It hasn’t done anything permanent yet! Think of what this will do to your Father! To Rhea! She’s-_ Sothis chocked on her words, clutching her head. Her memories were bubbling up. Slowly, she would remember who she was. Who Byleth is. What she would become. It would take years, but even ghosts were not spared haunted memories. … _Don’t hurt her._

 _Pain is a cruel teacher._ Byleth agreed. _But it must be done. For everyone’s good._

 _Who are you to say something so horrible!_ Sothis demanded. _How could you possibly-_

Byleth let a memory float through her mind. _We alone know the consequences of inaction._

Sothis stared wide as the fragment of Byleth’s memory played before her eyes. She spoke no more. The time had come. The magic would run its course.

“…And I must say Archbishop, I-“ Aelfric fell silent. He was always the first to see.

“Aelfric? What is the matter?”

He shoved Rhea out the way and ran past Byleth, screeching to a halt next to Sitri. Jeralt shouted after him, but quickly fell in line once his eye locked on to what Aelfric saw. Rhea looked at what the two men saw, and then locked eyes with Byleth, terror apparent. Sensing the inevitable, Byleth turned to see her spell’s gruesome work.

Particles were floating up in the air, each no larger than a speck of dust. Once they reached their apex, the particles glowed brightly, before vanishing as if they were nothing more than phantoms in the night. Below the dance of lights, Sitri’s body continued to deteriorate, already having lost a left cheek to the grisly process, a dull white light shining through her flesh to prevent anyone from seeing her flesh peel from its bone. Aelfric’s hand thrummed with healing magic as he tried in vain to reverse the process. Jeralt looked on, helpless.

“Rhea!” Aelfric cried out. “What’s happening to Sitri? What have you done to her!”

Rhea stumbled forward, eye locked on Sitri’s closed eyelids. Her magic flared to life, trying to aid Aelfric.

Jeralt stared mutely at Byleth. Byleth looked down at Sitri’s face.

Aelfric was frantically pouring more and more magic into a spell that would not function. “Rhea, what-“

“I don’t know!” Rhea snapped. “I’ve never seen anything like this! I don’t-“ her eyes swung back to Byleth’s. “What is happening?”

“Her time has run out.” Byleth had practiced her expression. It was a mix of sorrow and resignation, layered behind a stone mask of polite stoicism. Jeralt and Rhea would see what they wanted to. “The Crest of Flames can only preserve a body for so long. Then, inevitably, time catches up.”

“There has to be a way to stop this!” Aelfric shouted. “You, child, you have the Crest of Flames! Surely you can do something!”

“Like what?”

“You could- You- I-“ Aelfric wilted, and his eyes began to franticly bounce back between Byleth, Rhea, and Sitri. Looking at Rhea one last time, he clenched his fist, and looked at Byleth with a desperate resolve. “There is an old legend- hidden in Abyss, there is an artifact that was once used to bring back the dead. Sitri has some time left. If we can just find it, then-“

“Absolutely not!” Rhea barked. “What you suggest is madness, Aelfric! The Chalice cannot restore life, only create twisted parodies! Not to mention you would need the blood of the four Apostles, who have long since vanished from history!”

Aelfric spun, fervor in his eyes. “It’s better than doing noting! And even then-“ His eyes widened. “You say it as though you know the Chalice.”

Rhea bit her lip. “It will not work Aelfric.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Aelfric demanded. “This is our only chance to save Sitri! To return her to a life so unjustly taken!” Aelfric stepped forward. “In fact, you were the only one in the room with Sitri! I know you looked down on her. We all could see it.” Jeralt reached out to grab Aelfric’s shoulder. Aelfric shoved the hand away. “You’ve hidden away secrets for years. I’ve helped you do it. In those short few months after her birth, you doted on the child, her child- as if it were your own. Byleth clearly has some understanding of crests even you lack, and possesses a crest that should be long lost. Who is to say you didn’t kill Sitri for some sick, twisted experiment to grant her child this power!”

Rhea’s eyes burned. “How dare you, Aelfric! After all I have done for you, after all I did for Sitri! To accuse me of such a crime…”

“You’ve lied before. You’ll lie again. Who’s to say you haven't lied about this?”

“You will be silent, Aelfric!”

“I will not! It has been far too long since-“

“The deterioration is accelerating.” Byleth's words cut through the two’s shouting match. Both turned their heads to Sitri before rushing back to the dais. The entirety of Sitri’s left side had vanished. Her dress dripped down on to the stone.

“We need to find the Chalice, now! If we don’t Sitri will-“

"Aelfric, enough!”

“No!” Aelfric screamed. “Enough of your lies, Rhea! The chalice is the only way to save Sitri, and no half spun fairy tale will deter me! I must find the chalice! You don’t know-“

“She knows what the chalice does because she witnessed the first ritual.” Byleth said.

Aelfric deflated. “What? How is that-“ His eyes turned to Rhea, who’s expression was caught between it’s former hostility and newfound shock.

 _‘Sometimes a piece of the truth is better then a lie._ ’ Byleth mouthed to her.

Aelfric regained his footing. “That’s impossible.”

“…No, it’s very possible.” Jeralt broke his silence as he studied Rhea. “All too possible.” He turned to Aelfric. “Kid, I’ve known you since before you could read. Have I ever so much as aged a day in that time?”

Aelfric rubbed his hand.

“I’m more than one hundred and fifty years old. If you think it odd that Rhea hasn’t aged in your lifetime, I’ll have you know she doesn’t look a day older than when I first met her. One hundred and thirty years ago.”

“I knew the crest of Serios extended life, but for so long…”

“It’s true.” Rhea had found her voice. “I was there when the resurrection was attempted. Instead of bringing back the long dead, a monster was formed out of sinew and magic.”

Aelfric was forced to grapple with the revelations. “You are truly that ancient? How old are you?”

Rhea shifted. “The closer your blood is to Saint Serios, the longer life is extended. I have…a more direct connection than most.”

Aelfric looked down on at Sitri’s face. Only half remained. The fire in his eyes relit. “That doesn’t mean anything! You’re responsible for her death. You have to be.” There was a hiccup in his breath. “She couldn’t have just died. I know it. It had to be you.”

“I would never do such an abhorrent thing to my child, Aelfric.” Rhea’s lips pressed together.

“Your child? Like I am your child? Like every other cardinal is your child? You could barely care about us, Rhea! You let the world around you rot, leaving us to pick after your messes!” Aelfric’s second wind was in full force. “Have you looked at the state of Abyss? It’s been fifteen years since I first handed you the petition to fix the very foundation of Garreg Mach, and what have you done since then? Nothing!”

“My attention is on the entire continent. There are many underprivileged throughout Fódlan. To favor one area-“

“It’s just under your feet, and you let it rot! Fifteen years, Rhea! You left me alone to organize some semblance of order in this maze of corridors with nothing but pocket change!” Rhea flinched. “And how is the state of Fódlan’s slums at large, I wonder? How can I trust a word you say? What possible reason could you give to make anyone believe that you cared about Sitri?” Rhea’s fingers dug into her palms. She looked to Byleth. Byleth could offer no respite. Rhea would have to come to the conclusion herself this time. “I remember her training being so much harsher than anyone else’s. You always had it out for her! And when you were given the opportunity to do whatever you did you took it! It’s disappeared now, but I saw the cuts on her body! You removed her heart! You’re a liar, Rhea!” Rhea bit her lip. Byleth could smell the ozone of blood in the air. Rhea had suffered, and as always, learned. “A-“

“She was my blood! My own daughter!” Rhea gasped out. Aelfric stopped, stunned by the sudden burst of emotion. Rhea gritted her teeth, and continued. “She was my child, like all of you. But I brought her into this world, and had to watch as she left it.”

Aelfric struggled. “But- the wound-“

“Her last choice.” Rhea replied. “The last bit of her fading life for her daughter’s.” Rhea looked at Byleth, and then let out a whisper. “My granddaughter.”

Aelfric wanted to sputter. But his anger had burnt out. Rhea did not cry. Jeralt sighed, and brushed Sitri’s hair one last time. He placed a kiss on her cheek. “…Now I am destroyed by love.” He sang softly. He turned to Byleth. “Is there really nothing you can do?”

Each time she had left Sitri’s body alone, Aelfric had inevitably performed his ritual, and twisted her corpse into an abomination. Sometimes Jeralt would find her body, and it would drive him into a deep depression and bitterness for as long as it remained. Sometimes he would even grow so foolish as to aid Aelfric. It was another grim reminder of past tragedy. It was best to simply remove her mother’s body from the equation. Momentary loss for a better tomorrow. Aelfric could continue to improve Abyss. Jeralt could finally have some closure. Rhea would start to learn how to accept loss. Besides, Rhea had once said it herself. Sitri’s spirit had long since moved on. All that remained was her body.

Stuck in an endless purgatory, never changing, watching as people plotted to sacrifice for you, and mourned with every look they gave you. Byleth felt her father’s sad eyes cling to her like ancient tar. She liked to think she had learned some small measure of empathy for her mother’s plight over the lifetimes.

Whenever Byleth had given foreknowledge to Rhea or Aelfric, they would inevitably try something foolish to stop Sitri’s deterioration. Occasionally they would discover it was Byleth that performed the magic that made Sitri fall apart. Things went badly after that. It always ended best when the two were simply forced to experience it.

“Someone wiser than they knew once told me that sometimes, even I can’t fight fate.” Byleth responded. Jeralt squeezed her shoulder. And gave a her a very sad look that Byleth had become very used to seeing.

 _Why can’t you just have them talk it out? Why do they have to suffer?_ Sothis asked.

Byleth sent more memories flashing through her mind. Arguing. Deflections. Hurt feelings. Bruised egos. Terrible betrayals. In the end, nothing was accomplished. _Sometimes, people simply could not come together until they suffered together._

_This is wrong._

_You can turn back time. We can try again, if you would like it._ Byleth conjured up more memories, preparing to let them play.

 _Stop._ Sothis commanded. _No more memories._

“Come on Aelfric. It’s now or never.” Jeralt was holding up the cardinal, who swayed with each step.

“Sitri…I…” Aelfric choked on his words. “I was going…If only you had given me more time, I could have…I-“ A sob tore through him, and Aelfric fell to his knees, weeping softly.

Rhea did not approach. She only stared on as the last of her daughter faded away into nothingness.

 _…I remember her._ Sothis murmured.

Byleth never could.

She supposed that made it easier for her to make her corpse fade into nothing.

As the last pieces of her mother faded away, Byleth wondered how many times she had debated if this made her a bad person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thanks to Dox for beta reading, and helping me discover some forms of than are better than the other thens when putting than and then next to each other, then sequencing then and than together to form a more complete than.
> 
> (There were 15+ of those corrections in the draft)
> 
> I know necrophilia is a common interpretation with Aelfric, but as it is only implicit, and I want to use him a bit more with Jeralt, something (say it with me) the game never does for some indescribable reason. If I had to guess, they couldn’t get Jeralt’s VA back in the booth on time, given that he doesn’t even voice the chapter intros like he does in the main game. Or at least I hope that’s the reason. In any case, we’ll just leave all that to Orson back in Magvel. Plus Rhea never mentions seeing any stains on Sitri’s pretty white dress, so let’s just agree to leave it at Aelfric is SuCh A niCE gUy.
> 
> Song is There Is A Touch by the Proclaimers. Completely different tone, but I thought the words fit well enough. Had planned on using Rhea's song, but it has two whole lines, so.


	12. Song of the Nabataeans

**2 nd of Blue Sea Moon**

“Daughter.” Rhea whispered out. The word rolled strangely off her tongue. She tried again. “Daughter. I brought my daughter into the world.” The words still felt foreign. The last surviving statue of Saint Seiros she stood before offered no response.

She had said the words aloud. People had heard it. Jeralt and Aelfric would not look at her the same way again. Rhea was not her mother. She could not take back words once uttered.

“My daughter…she died in my arms.” Would anyone else hear her? This section of Abyss was covered in dust. She doubted Seteth could find it after a week of searching. But old stones often echoed louder than they had any right to. Porous walls weak with age could carry hushed voices for miles.

“And then I brought my granddaughter into the world.” Calling Byleth ‘granddaughter’ after her revelations felt like a cruel joke. Who was Rhea to call Byleth young when the woman had seen millennia pass before her eyes?

Rhea closed her eyes and listened. The world around her was silent. Not even the patter of rats or sounds of insects scuffling was heard.

“And now…my granddaughter has returned to me.” Seiros’ face was stone. It could not speak. But it was the last surviving accurate depiction of Saint Seiros. She had kept it here, hidden in the endless catacombs of Garreg Mach for some reason, hadn’t she? Rhea couldn’t remember why. But she knew she had kept it for good reason. It had to be. She had stood stock still and politely told the nobles that the relics were gifts of the goddess all while her tongue burned from the poison she let drip out of her mouth for the sake of peace. But here stood a statue that could unravel her identity if they could just find it through the maze of shadows and endless corridors. So why hadn’t she destroyed it?

“I have a granddaughter now.” Rhea paused, swallowing. A memory forced its way to the surface. Sitri had forced herself to remain alive as Rhea placed the Crest Stone into Byleth. She had looked so happy as Byleth’s eyes fluttered open. Sitri had turned to Rhea then, trying to speak, pleading with her eyes. _Please,_ she had choked out. _Don’t make her-_

And then Rhea’s daughter died in her arms. Byleth had not made a sound as she watched her mother’s life fade away.

Rhea tried again to remember why she had let the statue stand. It had been when her first had died, she recalled. The time had come to make Seiros’ face disappear. But she had still wanted a reminder. A firm, unchanging memory of the hardest years of her long life. Fighting a decades long war against butchers who paraded across the continent in her kin’s bones. Sacrifice after sacrifice, until she had finally destroyed Nemesis. Surely, returning Sothis to her rightful place could not be so arduous. And so she had placed a statue in a place no one would ever find, but easily accessible to herself. A reminder that no matter what, her worst trials had passed. All that remained was one final effort. To restore her mother to life, using a body born from her own blood and magic.

But Byleth had changed that. She had seen her life pass by countless times. She had all the power Rhea’s mother had possessed. She had every opportunity to come to Rhea, to tell her anything. And Byleth, with all of her lifetimes, with all her demonstrable power, with all her knowledge, was not Sothis. She showed no sign of being the mother Rhea had worked for a thousand years to resurrect.

More than that, Rhea had cursed the child with a terrible fate. Byleth might protest and say that she had done the unthinkable and destroyed Sothis’ Crest stone, but the cause of Byleth’s torment was clear. The Crest of Flames granted power over time. Something terribly wrong had happened. And now, because Rhea had saved her granddaughter’s life, Byleth was doomed to repeat it, forever.

“My daughter has been reduced to nothingness. My granddaughter is cursed.” Rhea clenched her fists. “M-my…” She gasped, and her voice hiccupped. “My mother…” Her throat clenched one final time.

“My mother isn’t coming back.”

Rhea found herself collapsed in front of the statue some hours later. Her eyes stung. She wiped a wetness off her cheeks.

She hadn’t been crying. It could not be. Rhea had run out of tears centuries ago, lost to eons of pain and heartache.

Rhea looked up at the statue. An expression she once saw as firm and unyielding was now wrathful and full of a terrible scorn.

For the first time, Rhea felt the desire to destroy the effigy. She reached forward to break the statue with her bare hands. As her fingers touched the stone, Rhea’s eye darted to an etching at its base. It was the picture of a small crown. A tear shape made up the crown’s center, with what Rhea recalled was supposed to be a small ruby to contrast with the real circlet’s gold coloring. Small antlers extended outwards- no. They were supposed to be wings, Rhea recalled. Several small points dangled on the wing line, pointing downwards.

 _Now all I need are feathers, and I’ll be able to fly free over the walls and past the hills,_ A long forgotten voice echoed in Rhea’s mind. _Just like you, Mama._

Visions of a child with green hair flashed before her eyes. A sickly girl who was forced to sleep for days at a time. She had spent her waking hours learning the arts so she might last longer than her tombstone. A signature put on all of her works, in place of a name that was doomed to be forgotten by the world.

This statue was the last bit of proof that her first had ever existed. A gift from a girl damned by Rhea’s inexperience at creating life. A child stumbling in her mother’s footsteps.

In the end, all Rhea could do was drag herself back to her chambers and collapse into her bed. When Rhea awoke from a dreamless sleep, her pillows were damp.

* * *

**4 th of Blue Sea Moon**

“…The congregation sends their well wishes to you, and prays for a speedy recovery.” Seteth droned at her side. Rhea took another sip from the broth he had brought with him.

“Hmm.”

Seteth grumbled under his breath. “Rhea, please try and stay focused. Need I remind you that not only is the Rite of Rebirth fast approaching, but there is also a plot against your life. You could at least pretend to pay attention.”

“Those come up from time to time. The knights are quite competent.”

“Rhea, please.” Seteth did not bother to hide his exasperation. “All it takes is one stray arrow. A single drop of poison. A second’s lapse.”

Rhea hummed. “As I said. The knights are perfectly capable of protecting me. This isn’t the first assassination attempt in this decade.”

“One would normally see the knight’s experience with the subject as a sign of a much deeper problem.”

“Their current frequency is fairly unusual. There was a spell of them after Loog’s rebellion, but usually they only happen every fifty years or so.”

Rhea heard a soft _whump._ Seteth's face was buried in his hands while his thumbs slowly ran over his temples. “…I can’t help but think you’ve learned the wrong…everything.” Seteth stood up to leave. “I give up. You’re acting worse than Flayn.”

“Seteth, wait.” He had already made it to the door, and did not turn to face Rhea, though he paused.

“Do you ever…think you’re being too harsh on Flayn?”

Seteth turned, eyebrow twitching. “Given your apparent habit of attracting assassinations, no.”

“Seteth, please. I apologize for my callousness. I need…” Rhea felt her lips thin. “I need your ear.”

Seteth stared at Rhea for a moment, before sighing, and returning to his seat. “The things I do for you…” he muttered. “What is it?”

“I’ve been talking to Flayn recently-“

“Really? You were serious about that?”

“Seteth…”

He grumbled, but remained seated.

“And I just thought…it would be good for her to stretch her legs. To see the world, and how it’s changed.”

Setet’s brow furrowed. “An odd request. You quite rightfully told her that Garreg Mach would be the safest place for her to live, especially given the current political turmoil in the kingdom and empire. Though given your rather blasé attitude towards an assassination threat…”

“I know that. And it is safe. But she isn’t the small helpless child from our memories. She has grown, and it would be good to let her stretch her legs. I-“ Rhea bit her lip. “We should not keep her locked away forever.”

Seteth sighed. “She’s put you up to this now, has she? I would ask you to tell Flayn and remind yourself that just because it is peaceful inside these walls does not mean that the outside world is without strife or quiet little acts of brutality.” He leaned forward, staring down Rhea. “It even threatens to slip through these walls. Need I remind you of the assassination for the fourth time in as many minutes?”

“Students and merchants alike come and go through Garreg Mach.”

“And none of them are blood to the second in command of the Church of Seiros. The very same Church of Seiros with an archbishop that has an assassin’s writ against her.” Seteth sighed. “Not to mention, someone tried to kill the three most important students several moons ago. Really, it’s for her own protection. She isn’t ready to face the world, no matter what she says. You should know this Rhea.”

_Mama, when will you show me the ocean?_

“All too well.”

Seteth gave her a questioning look. “Then why bother asking?”

Rhea looked at Seteth. She recalled promising to not leave him out of anything a few months ago. And with his own experience with Flayn, he might have some small measure of sympathy for her. But more than anything, the burden of carrying her guilt had grown too much to stand in the past months. Seteth was the only one who could understand her. Both were parents. Both had roamed the earth for well over one thousand years. And both had felt the pain of losing a child. Seteth’s long faded by time and Flayn’s recovery, and Rhea’s only recently discovered.

“Ever since Byleth entered Garreg Mach, I’ve been trying to remember something.” Rhea forced out.

Seteth shifted. “What?”

“The answer came to me two days ago.” Rhea paused, summoning her courage. This was the last chance to back out. To change the subject.

“This is related to your collapse.” Seteth looked pensive.

Rhea could not allow herself to hide. “I realized that night was the first time I had ever called Sitri my daughter.”

Seteth’s silence seemed to stretch out and muffle any other sounds that usually drifted into her room in the hot midday. He studied her as he did Flayn’s health. Rhea held his eyes, refusing to let herself look away.

“Sitri.” Seteth finally grounded out, testing his own words as they past his tongue. “Byleth’s mother.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve made a habit of giving blood to cardinals. Extending their life. Calling them your children. Watching over orphans torn from their families by war and illness.”

“All that is true.”

“But you didn’t call her daughter. Someone who you created to house…” Seteth let the sentence drip out.

Rhea did not flinch. “Yes.”

“…Because she was a means to an end?”

Rhea cringed. “No. I didn’t-“ an exasperated sigh escaped her. “It all started with my fifth.”

“…Ah. Yes. You mentioned Sitri was your twelfth.”

“It’s not like-“ Rhea felt her voice catch. “I tried, the first four, to treat them like any other child. But my fifth- He was-I didn’t mean- I-“ Rhea’s mouth was dry. Seteth had not changed his expression, carefully schooled into a neutral façade. His eyes felt like boulders perched mere inches away from a jagged cliff. “I didn’t- it wasn’t my-“

There was the barest of shifts in Seteth’s face. Trying to back down now would bring the avalanche down. Rhea took a breath. “He was as sweet as all the others. But the power I gave him spoiled the boy. He grew cruel. Wicked. After his passing, I resolved to treat any future vesse-“ Rhea bit her tongue. “Any future…children…as if they were any other orphan, so that would never happen again, for the good of everyone."

Seteth stared, unblinking.

Rhea tried to communicate with her kin. "For their own protection, as you might say.”

Seteth flinched at that.

“…I remember coming here three and a half centuries ago. There was a cardinal. Black hair. Pale skin. Gold eyes. Utterly emotionless. She was another one of these…?”

Rhea nodded. “Yes. My seventh.”

“I spoke with her a few times. In our talks, she only ever referred to herself as an ‘it’.”

Rhea’s eyes widened. “That wasn’t- she- it- my seventh was made differently. They were genderless. It wasn’t anything harmful. It was an experiment to see if that might better it's chance of becoming-“ Rhea noticed the hard edge that had entered Seteth’s face. “I-I-“ Rhea’s eyes fell. “I never meant…”

“…’It’ was also bursting at the seams with magic. So much so that they might come apart at any moment. I could also see the melancholy simmering underneath whenever you two were in the same room. I don’t recall you ever so much as addressing the poor child.”

“I never repeated those mistakes aga-“ Rhea’s eyes widened at her own admission.

Seteth resumed what might have been a minute or an hour later. “Do you still believe that any of that was for those children’s good?”

She wanted to. She had to. She needed to. But she couldn't.

“I also notice that you never referred to either child by name.” Seteth let his accusation hang in the air like the gallows. Rhea did not look up.

“Have you forgotten their names? Or did you never bother to learn them?”

Rhea’s eyes shot up. Seteth’s face still had not moved. “No!” Rhea shouted, pleaded, begged. “No! I didn’t!” Seteth’s face finally changed. “I didn’t. I…” It wasn’t any movement on his part. He had simply begun to blur. “I didn’t…”

It was a mistake to tell Seteth. She should have let this die a forgotten death. It was just like Macuil all over again. Seteth would leave her now. Rhea could sense it. A thousand years and all the tribulations he had stood by her like the very ground beneath her feet. All gone, to satisfy some guilt-ridden fantasy that he would forgive her.

Sitri was gone forever. Jeralt hated her. Seteth would take Flayn. She was alone. Again, after eleven hundred years. And it was all her fault.

Hours had passed. Rhea knew this because the next time she looked up, Twilight was cast on Seteth’s face. He still had not shifted from his seat.

“…Why…” Rhea choked out. “…Why are you still here?”

Seteth sighed. His face lost its stony look, and grew weary. “Someone has to look after you.”

She felt herself come apart all over again. “What have I done to deserve you, Cichol?” She managed.

He sighed again. “You are fool beyond imagination, Seiros.”

Night fell. He studied her for a time. Finally making a face that hinted a small piece of satisfaction, he stood. “I have a meeting to attend with someone who might take the threat to your life seriously. Until next time, Lady Rhea.” She couldn’t tell if that was sarcastic.

Rhea’s lips thinned. She still needed something. No. Someone. “Are you going to see Byleth?”

“Yes. Her knowledge has been invaluable. She will be connecting the attempt on the three heirs to the latest on your own.”

Rhea rose, wobbling on her feet. “I would like to come with you.” She managed. “I have…things I must tell her.”

“Yes.” Seteth mused. “I suppose you do.”

“Seteth?”

“Yes?”

“I still think…you should take Flayn northwest. To the sea.”

Seteth looked down. “I’ll consider it.”

* * *

They waited in Seteth’s office. Rhea sat quietly in a corner. Seteth busied himself with paperwork. The moon was high when Byleth finally opened the door. Rhea stood up jerkily. Both Byleth and Seteth turned to her.

Rhea clasped her hands together, fidgeting like a schoolchild. Her throat was suddenly dry, and her lips were chapping. Byleth met her gaze, unblinking and without emotion _like her sixth like her seventh like her-_

Rhea forced herself to focus. She had been avoiding this for too long. Drawing her lips into a thin line Rhea forced herself forward. “Granddaughter.”

The word felt light on her lips. It came so easily Rhea wondered why she hadn’t ever called Byleth by it before.

Byleth nodded back. “Grandmother.”

Rhea felt a strange giddiness at her pronunciation. ”I hope your father is well, after…”

“He’s getting drunk with Aelfric in Abyss.”

Rhea shifted. “I suppose that is to be expected.” She took in a breath. “Byleth…Granddaughter…” the word’s foreignness on her tongue still brought a strange spark of joy. “I must know. Is Sothis…truly dead?” Those words sill tasted like dust and ash.

Seteth leaned forward. Byleth shifted on her feet, before looking Rhea in the eye. “Yes.”

The words struck Rhea like Nemesis once did. She collapsed into her chair. Faintly, she was aware of Seteth leaning back into his. Distantly, she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Byleth was looking down at her, faintly glowing green eyes tinged with concern.

“Granddaughter, I…There are no words for what I have done to you.” Rhea whispered out.

“It isn’t your fault-“

“Mother’s heart is the only thing that could have done this! I was the one who put it into you, who cursed you with your torment, I-“ Rhea froze as Byleth embraced her.

“I know.” Byleth said quietly, with a rainbow of emotion buried deep within the syllables. Faintly, Rhea felt herself return her grandchild’s embrace and she closed her stinging eyes. How long had it been since she had held blood this way?

Ah, that was right. When Sitri died in her arms.

Grandmother and granddaughter slowly released their embrace. Rhea still felt phantom arms wrapped around her shoulders. It reminded her of Sothis, so very long ago. It was a good, terrible feeling that lingered long after her granddaughter pulled away. Rhea looked down at Byleth. Something more painful than happiness tugged at her heart. Her eyes drifted to Seteth, who was staring at his wall, with a far off glassy look in his eyes. Rhea coughed.

“I…thank you. But I realize that you had originally planned on talking over this plot against my life.”

Seteth’s eye’s snapped back, and he cleared his throat. “Yes, well. We can delay if you need to-“

Rhea shook her head. “No, it’s fine Seteth. I have more to say, but for now, I think it best to focus on something inside our control.”

Byleth hummed. “I suppose so.”

“Indeed. Last time we spoke, you mentioned the same person behind the attempted murder of the three heirs also had dealings with the Western Church, and was preparing to use them to strike.” Seteth said. “You said they were called…the Flame Emperor?”

”Yes, that’s correct.”

“I see. Then what is their motive? Disgracing the church? Killing our three most important students and then striking against us on one of our holy days?”

“Well yes…” Byleth tilted her head. “But not just that. They are an extension of the Agarthans, who wish to take revenge-“

The shouts that came out of Rhea and Seteth nearly shook the room apart.

* * *

Just outside Seteth’s door, cloaked by an invisibility spell, it took all of Solon’s willpower not to join his two hated foes’ in their chorus of sputtering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thanks to Dox for beta reading!
> 
> I would say I’ve been playing the FFVII remake, but I don’t have a PS4, so
> 
> I’ve been re-reading [The Fifth Act](https://archiveofourown.org/works/362128/chapters/587564), [Terrorism and Anarchy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14005272/chapters/32251083), and [N7 SOLDIER](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3636825/chapters/8033976).
> 
> Brave choices, I know. And yes, I would recommend 1984 and Brave New World. For fractionally more cool points (you know, like one or maybe two), I’d suggest [Top Guide (In This Town)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11819829/chapters/26670192), [Angels Still Have Faces](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13200147/chapters/30195636), and [The Vivisectionists](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2269935).
> 
> Long time readers may recall that before the DLC dropped, I was using Lilith as a name for Byleth’s mother. And fun fact, if you take away the three remakes, their have been exactly twelve mainline Fire Emblem games before Three Houses release. Also, just for my peace of mind, does anyone have any suggestions for who from SOV might fit as one of Rhea’s experiments? This really won’t affect the story in any way, and they probably won’t even be mentioned. I’m just wondering if anyone has any better ideas then me. Also Radiant Dawn. Rajaion is the ‘best’ fit I could come up with for PoR.
> 
> Also, apparently Limstellia is considered genderless according to reference books. The more you know.
> 
> Julius is fifth to reflect the generation gap and because Thracia doesn't really have anyone who could fit the role. And he does cameo in the game, so that counts for something.
> 
> Next chapter is going to be the hardest chapter of them all. The one where I, the author, has to sell you, an audience who has played the game, the idea that Solon, a villain with all the credibility and even less stage presence then Hans Moleman as any sort of threat instead of what he actually is, a walking punchline. Stay tuned, it’ll be fun.
> 
> And yes, that was a hint.
> 
> Also, 5K views! *trumpet noises*


	13. Funny Footsteps

Solon trembled. When he had accepted the charge to infiltrate Garreg Mach, he had expected to be surprised. The young girl, Flayn, had potential to be abducted, and was a welcome development. The child’s blood would be infinitely easier to obtain than either of the other two abominations. The Riegan boy’s interest in subjects the church deemed subversive was an unexpected crop that might yet bear fruit. But this? This was calamitous.

When Solon had first observed this Byleth girl enter Garreg Mach, questions had spun through his head. Was she yet another Nabataean that had managed to survive? Her green coloring and hidden ears suggested she was, but tales of her past were strange- the daughter of a human mercenary? The story didn’t seem to be faked, from what he gathered. But the archbishop began to act strangely. The beast in woman’s guise began to grow distant from her flock. She avoided the new girl after their first meeting. There was at least one shouting match between her and the other creature.

And then this Byleth creature had killed at least ten demonic beasts on her own. Solon did not have to fake his shock along with the rest of the monastery. And so, Solon had endeavored to learn more. It was clear to see from her training of the students she was very talented, but to defeat a force that could easily overwhelm several battalions of knights just by herself still seemed fantastical.

And so by chance, Solon had seen Byleth entering Seteth’s office. Solon seized his opportunity to listen in. It took a while for him to adjust his magic to allow him to hear what they were talking about through the thick walls, but only seconds passed before he realized that he might not need to bother with the hearing aid.

In the time it took Rhea and Seteth to calm themselves, Solon had begun gripping his staff so tight it threatened to splinter.

“The Agarthans still live? They still wish to destroy us, after all this time?” Rhea asked in a hushed whisper.

“Yes.” Byleth responded.

“You have had months to tell us this. Why are you just now telling us this?” Seteth demanded.

Solon heard the girl shuffling her feet as he leaned closer to the door.

“Child?” Rhea’s voice was tentative. “Why didn’t you tell us? Surely they have made themselves known to you in previous timelines.”

More shuffling. Solon’s mind raced with possibilities. This child apparently had been traveling through time. Ludicrous as it sounded, that would explain her foreknowledge of his people. His mind struggled, desperate for an answer-

“They aren’t very important, really.”

Solon had no difficulty contributing to the silence that followed.

“…What?” Seteth found his voice first, before it devolved into an angry hiss. “They aren’t important? You just admitted that they were actively trying to kill the three heirs, are aiding and abetting armed insurrections, and most importantly, have been crafting a thousand-year-old revenge scheme. And you call that unimportant!”

“Well, when you look at it that way, unimportant isn’t the right word.” Byleth said. “Incompetent suits them best.”

“…Incompetent?” Rhea asked. “They had technology even Mother struggled to comprehend. They have gone undetected by us for millennia. And now they are manipulating the western church into openly attacking me, if I understand your implication.”

“That is all true.” Byleth hummed. “But my lives have gone on for decades. Centuries. Millennia, on occasion. They have never survived more than five years.”

Five years? This impudent, upstart brat prophesized the end of the most glorious civilization in the world’s history in just five years? Solon leaned forward; teeth clenched. The girl knew something. He would extract what he could, then plant her severed head atop the tallest spire of Garreg Mach for the archbishop to find. How dare she suggest that his great people were-

“They all have this odd habit of revealing themselves when they don’t need to. They could spread a disease throughout a village, but at the last moment decide that they have to take the credit for orchestrating the deaths-”

His people’s plans were as multifaceted as they were conniving. Who was this driveling child to question their ingenious fear tactics-

“-Have easily formed secret alliances with Dagda or Almyra centuries ago by supplying them with outdated, but still advanced weaponry to severely weaken your rule, then enter as the long-wronged saviors of Fódlan, usurp the church, and then beat back the invaders with even more advanced weaponry. Not to mention the thousands of permutations to that half remembered- “

Revenge would be theirs and theirs alone, not some filthy foreign barbarian waving around any of the Agarthans’ immaculate technology like it was a club-

“Mostly, it comes from their leadership. Whenever I corner Thales- that’s their leader- he decides that destroying himself and all his minions is the only logical option.”

Well, if Solon was perfectly honest, Thales was an overdramatic buffoon. He had always been a poor choice for leader.

“That does seem…extreme.” Seteth muttered.

“Ah. There was one other point.” Byleth said. “They’ve infiltrated Garreg Mach. Tomas the librarian is an Agarthan in disguise.”

Solon’s blood froze.

“He- What!” Seteth shouted. “Months! You’ve kept the students- kept Flayn- in danger for months with your dallying-”

“No. I haven’t.” Byleth remained calm. “If he was any sort of immediate threat, I would have dealt with him. No need to rock the boat too quickly. He might be technically proficient, but he’s just as stupid as the rest of them.”

Solon kept his teeth from grinding. He had little tolerance for insults from students and faculty as Tomas (something von Ochs had learned far too late to save herself), and even less patience for unruly faculty (he would take great pleasure once he finally got to kill Manuela for wandering into the library drunk. After hours. Twice.) and Byleth had long passed wearing on him.

“No matter. We know where he is.” Solon gave a jump as Rhea slammed the door open, marching towards the library with Seteth in tow, who glared at an unperturbed Byleth following behind. Solon gripped his cane, steeled his nerve, and followed silently.

There were no students in the Library at this hour. A curfew had been placed after the latest assassination attempt against Rhea, forcing even the most ardent bookworms back into their beds. A few other librarians still mulled about in the candlelight, standing guard against any intrusion. Rhea entered the library, beckoning a guard as the other two of her party stood outside. Seteth was still glaring at Byleth, who finally reacted with a nonchalant shrug. Seteth’s eyebrow twitched.

Solon felt something parallel to sympathy for the monster in a human shape. Shared animosity, he supposed.

Rhea returned, a twinge of worry on her brow. “He left this morning to search for rare books.”

“Such trips are not uncommon for Tomas, as I recall.” Seteth muttered. “Though now I must ponder the true nature of his excursions.”

“Let’s break into his room. He sometimes leaves evidence there.” Byleth said, already turning to leave.

“Easy to say now that he has escaped after leaving the students in danger for months.” Seteth said grimly, quickly taking after her, Rhea on their heels. Solon swore under his breath, lifting his robe up so it would not drag against the floor as he ran after the three. After running behind the trio down a flight of stairs, across a hall, up and then down another flight before finally exiting the building and racing across the courtyard, Solon cursed the Nabataeans all over again as he strained to hide his wheezing. The first thing he was going to do once he had them under his knife would be to rip out their secret of eternal youth, and then force them to run a marathon in old, decrepit bodies before sawing their legs off and making them do it again, just to teach them to respect other’s pain.

Seteth spoke in a hushed whisper. “Byleth, this cannot happen again. Even if it was inadvisable to kill him outright, we could have easily kept tabs on him- “

“You’d just be wasting your time. I told you, he’s an idiot.”

Rhea’s voice had a strained twinge. “Child, please. You cannot possibly know what- “

“I can actually. I’ve lived through my life a thousand times over, as you recall.”

Solon could almost hear Seteth’s teeth grinding. “That doesn’t mean everything will happen as you recall. Surely subtle changes will have drastic consequences- “

“For other matters, I agree. But Agarthan stupidity is a constant. He is of little consequence- “

Rhea grabbed Byleth by the wrist, dragging her back against the wall. “Granddaughter!” Her voice was a chiding hiss. Solon’s eyes widened under his invisibility spell at the proclamation. “You may not be taking this seriously, but apparently I must remind you that these are the people who orchestrated Sothis’ death and plunged Fódlan into a war that shattered mountains and boiled the sea!”

Solon was shocked. An expression had made its way onto the emotionless woman’s face: surprise. “I- “

Something had taken in Rhea’s voice. “Not only that, but one of their agents has hidden themselves deep in the highest echelons of the church and is in arms reach of our students after another Agarthan agent tried to have three of them killed, by your own admission!”

Byleth’s eyes widened further. “But- “

“Just because you think you are in control of the situation does not mean you shouldn’t tell us! It is our duty to keep the students safe!” A tenderness alien to Solon entered Rhea’s voice. “To keep you safe.” The archbishop hardened herself after a moment’s pause. “You will not keep secrets from us, especially concerning those _people_. This is not something you can afford to take lightly. And if you do not, _granddaughter_ , I will find your father, slap him out of his drunken stupor, and have _him_ explain this to you. _Do you want me to do that? Do you, young lady?"_

Rhea was huffing, more upset than Solon had ever seen. Seteth stood pensively, torn between his anger at Byleth and shock at Rhea’s outburst. Byleth still couldn’t hide her surprise. After a moment more, Byleth looked away from Rhea. “…It’s been a very long time since you talked to me like that.”

Rhea’s anger swelled up again. “Is that all you have to say for yourself? For shame!”

Byleth looked back. Her emotionless mask had nearly settled back in, but anyone could see twinges of embarrassment at its edges. “I apologize. I will keep you more informed of the Agarthans. After we check Tomas’ apartment. I sometimes find him sleeping there.”

Rhea gave one last huff and released Byleth’s wrist. Seteth coughed, and the three continued walking.

Solon silently followed, pulse racing as they approached his room. While he knew that he would be safe, Solon could not keep his heart from racing. Byleth being a Nabataean- the accursed archbishop’s very granddaughter- was an interesting tidbit. It would certainly explain her great power. But this child still had foreknowledge of the Agarthan’s grand plans. She knew his identity. She was a clear and present danger. She had to be removed, and quickly.

The party reached his door quietly. Rhea raised her hand, a fire spell smoldering. Byleth waved her away, pulling out a hairpin, and quietly picked the lock. Once the door opened, Seteth silently swept into the room, fists clenched. Solon’s bed was neatly made and entirely empty. The small desk was free of any loose papers. A modest collection of books lined his shelf.

“No sign of him. Help me search his books, something may hidden in the pages.” Seteth reached over and flipped through a small tome. It was a recent history of the empire. Rhea inspected a small collection of cooking pamphlets. Byleth rummaged through the desk drawers. Seteth huffed, finding nothing out of the ordinary in the book, and went to pick up another. Solon felt a small smirk work its way onto his lips. He had taken care not to scribble anything in the margins on any of his collection, lest he ever give away important details. The Agarthan took small satisfaction in the fact that the Nabataeans would learn nothing of any value from his room-

“Here it is.” Byleth stood up holding a piece of parchment out from his drawer, unfolding it for Rhea and Seteth to see. Rhea gasped.

“Anatomical sketches of Rhea’s dragon form.” Seteth breathed out. “Very detailed. This parchment is in good condition too. No more than a few decades old.” He glanced to Rhea. “You haven’t, have you?”

She shook her head. “No. Not in nearly a thousand years. Which means this is a recreation, of some sort. Given the accuracy and the sheer length of time since I last took this form, it suggests the original was stored on one of the Agarthans’ computation machines…” Rhea's lip curled. Solon could sense her brow furrowing. “But why bring it here? Why go to the effort of recreating it on parchment? Surely the Agarthans would know that the church never produced any artwork of the Immaculate One- “ Seteth rolled his eyes at the name. “-Of this literal detail. No one but the Agarthans would ever be able to reproduce this with such accuracy all these centuries later. It would stand out instantly and raise our suspicion if ever seen by a church official. Why go to the trouble of producing it and risk detection?”

Byleth had made her way to the door, back turned to the outside as Seteth and Rhea crowded around the desk. “He apparently wanted to use it to try and lure any curious students to his side.” She shrugged. “I never really understood the plan. But again, he is quite stupid.”

Solon’s blood boiled as he stood outside the room. The little Nabataean’s insults were growing more and more burdensome. Just because he had no need to inform her of every little detail of his machinations did not mean he was stupid! Her back was turned to him, and the other two were engrossed further inside. Solon’s finger’s curled around the release mechanism for his hidden cane sword. It would be so simple to cut her down now.

“Whatever the case, this is concrete proof of Tomas’ involvement with the Agarthans.” Seteth folded the parchment neatly into his pocket. “We will say nothing, wait for his return, and then confront him.” He turned to Byleth. “Unless something more complicated is required?”

“He’s a moron. Nothing of any complexity is required to deal with him.” The button on Solon’s cane throbbed against his thumb. It would be so easy to strike her down. Her back was turned. Neither of her elders would be able to react in time. Solon shifted his grip, but restraint ultimately won out. The witch had promised to share what else she knew. He would at least wait until he knew the full scope of how compromised their operation was.

“If there is nothing else in this room to be found,” Rhea said as Byleth nodded. “Then please share what else you know of the Agarthans.”

“I would like to know what caused Tomas to throw his lot in with those villains.” Seteth folded his arms behind his back.

“The two questions intersect.” Byleth said. “The Agarthans have created a magic that allows them to replace a person with one of their agents. So long as they wish it, the Agarthan is completely indistinguishable from the person they selected. However, the ritual takes months to complete and requires the body of whomever the Agarthans wish to replace.”

Seteth looked down. “That’s…horrific.”

Rhea’s eyes burned. “Are they not content with what they have already stolen from the world?” Solon stopped himself from scoffing. “Who else have they taken?”

“The technique is relatively new. Do you recall Monica von Ochs?”

“The missing student from last year?” Seteth shut his eyes as Byleth nodded. “We had already feared a terrible fate, but this…” He sucked in a breath. “Is there anyone else?”

“Not at the moment.”

Solon thought the information over. The witch had some knowledge, but their place in Arundel lands and the Blaiddyd court remained unknown to the Nabataeans. While this setback was enormous, Solon had made it out alive. He could teleport away, with no one the wiser and reformat his plans. But not before slitting the witch’s throat. As quietly as he could, Solon crept closer to Byleth, her back still turned to the door, slowly raising his blade to strike through the young Nabataean’s heart-

“I can also tell you the location of Shambhala, their underground city.”

Solon’s hand froze.

“Really?”

No no no no no nononoononono-

“Yes, we can take an elite group of knights, destroy their war machines, and then watch as they blow themselves up.”

Solon felt sweat run down his brow. This was inconceivable. He had to stop the child before she ruined everything-

“You still think they will doom themselves?”

Not if Solon doomed the Nabataeans first.

“When I said that they last no more than five years, that isn’t to suggest that they normally stick around that long. Just that it sometimes takes that long when something unexpected comes up.”

Why hadn’t he stabbed the vermin by now? Solon’s hands treacherously threatened to rattle and expose his position before he could strike. This witch spoke with such indifference, such confidence in her version of events. She had power beyond compare. Power-

“I pray your ability to know the future never blossoms into arrogance.” Seteth muttered loud enough to be sure anyone could hear it. “Very well. I imagine it will take us some time to prepare, but where is this Shambhala?”

-over time itself. Solon realized why fear had crept into his mind. The most ancient texts spoke of a demon in a woman’s form, who’s magic was so great that even time bent to her whim. A calamity that tore through the sky, who ripped down their great civilization because she grew jealous of their power, stealing the very light.

The girl remained unflappable. “From birthing the Valley of Torment to stealing my Crest to empower Nemesis, the Agarthans have only ever failed, I expect the same outcome from their current crop of incompetents.”

Sothis. The Fell Star.

“Byleth! Don’t speak of such horror as- “

Solon had to act now. This was his only chance. He had to master his fear. The great enemy stood before him, distracted. All he had to do was raise his cane and press a button. But his arm would not obey. The day had given him too much shock. The Fell Star was within his grasp. He had to do it. He needed to do it. All it would take was one momentary effort. It wouldn’t matter if the other two tore him to shreds, he would be hailed as a hero of Agartha for all time. All he needed to do was press a button. But his finger wouldn’t stop slipping off the button-

“-Are you listening to me?” Rhea demanded.

“No. He usually strikes by now.” Byleth replied.

“Child, you will not- “

“Tomas. He sometimes tries to stab me in the back when we are distracted.”

Rhea and Seteth stood shocked, their anger forgotten. Solon nearly dropped his cane.

“I’ve been trying to bait him into attacking. He often follows us along to his room under invisibility.” Byleth explained as if she were lecturing on basic algebra. “He hasn’t, so that means that he’s sensed danger and ran off. Occasionally he really is running errands away from Garreg Mach, but don’t get your hopes up.”

“…So your insults? Your callousness?” Seteth asked.

“Bait. Though their incompetence is a constant.”

The three continued to talk of the Agarthan’s secrets as they wandered off, but Solon didn’t hear them. He had just escaped death from a creature so vast and powerful he could barely comprehend. Was this what his ancestors felt when they faced down their doom eons ago?

He had to retreat. He had to warn Shambhala. He had to come up with a plan. He had to find a way to kill the Fell Star. He had to-

A book flew past his ear. Solon spun around to face his doom.

“-Yeah, I told you! Tomas has an open-door policy! He can take his late fees and shove ‘em- “ A student Solon didn’t recognize all but shouted out on wobbling legs. She stank of cheap Abyssian alcohol. The boy in her arms put his hand over her mouth as he giggled along.

“Be quiet, a teacher will hear!”

Silently teleporting away, Solon promised himself he was going to kill every last one of those snot nosed brats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Dox for beta reading! Also, Thanks for 6k views everyone!
> 
> Soooooo.
> 
> I might have fibbed about writing Solon in a way that would make you take him seriously last chapter.
> 
> In the very early drafts, I tried to play up the mad scientist angle, really try and creep people out with Solon’s depravity as if he was Hojo or someone. But then I realized something: Solon is the worst character in the game. At least Thales for all his bullshit has the good sense to leave a fight when it’s not going his way (in part 1, at least). At least Kronya-
> 
> Er. At least Kronya-
> 
> Um.
> 
> Alright. They’re tied for bottom place.
> 
> I realized that trying to make Solon a threat was more trouble than it was worth. He’s just too pathetic. Anyone who has to play through the game multiple times as Byleth has will tell you that (anyone who plays the game once will tell you that…)
> 
> So instead, I’m just going to play up their worthlessness, because if the games writers couldn’t be bothered to make us take them seriously, then why should I? Plus, this is a lot more fun.
> 
> Oh and I’m sure arrogance will in no way come back to bite Byleth further down the road. It really isn’t like the mole people are any threat whatsoever.
> 
> And they aren’t. We’ve all played the game. They just aren’t.
> 
> And I’ll admit that whole bit with the drawing of dragon Rhea was self-indulgent, but whenever I try and think about the how and whys of it, along with the fact that no one really does anything meaningful with it, my brain just turns to mush.
> 
> Was thinking of calling this chapter Metal Gear Solon: Tactical Espionage Incompetence, but tradition won out.
> 
> Also, a funny little thing Dox came up with when I was talking about how I could only see Hans Moleman whenever I tried to picture Solon:
> 
> Solon raised his massive blade high, preparing to strike. Rhea and Seteth gasped.
> 
> "Accursed Fell Star! You will- oh- ooh...Down I go."
> 
> As Solon’s weapon and upper body fell to the ground, he realized using a blade twice his own body weight might have been a poor decision.


	14. An Ordinary Day

**5 th of Blue Sea Moon**

Yuri walked with a quiet confidence just a step behind Hapi. “So, what’s this all about?” The four friends had gone quite deep into Abyss, far away from the usual bustle, down winding corridors illuminated by strange magic lamps, long forgotten but steadfast in their purpose.

“Yeah, we’ve been walking for half an hour. I don’t mind the workout, but there are plenty of easier ways to stretch our legs.” Balthus had mastered the art of marching casually- said he picked up the habit from an old friend during his academy days- and trailed behind Yuri.

“I concur. Some hint as to where we are arriving would be most appreciated Hapi.” Constance’s polished heels clacked against the dusty stone tiles with a sense of ownership. Rather typical for a noble in Hapi’s experience.

“I wanted to show you guys something away from prying eyes.” Hapi turned a corner, and at last she had arrived at her practice spot. It was some sort of coliseum, or maybe a stone courtyard- she couldn’t say. Its pillars rose high, so high that the flickering magic lights couldn’t illuminate the ceiling. The decorations on the ground were no less impressive, with high quality stone laid carefully around each corner. Hapi wondered how anything so many people had undoubtedly put so much time into could ever just be forgotten as this room was. She even took special care to keep it as tidy as she could. There were even four very detailed and important looking statues that clearly had a lot of care put into them. It wouldn’t do to have something avoidable happen to them-

“Oh my, this is exquisite!” Constance nearly skipped across the old worn floor to the statue of the mage. “Hapi, how did you find this place? It’s magnificent enough to match my splendor! And with such loving renditions of the four saints- simply divine!”

On second thought, maybe she should use the statues as target practice. It’s not like the church doesn’t already have plenty of statues. And if they left them down here, they clearly didn’t care what happened to the rocks.

“Huh. I heard about an arena hidden somewhere back in town, but to see something like this…” Yuri looked up at the yawning roof.

Balthus scratched his head. “Yeah, I knew Abyss was big, but to hide a place this big? Just how deep do these caves stretch?”

“Perhaps a better question would be what would cause this place to be abandoned.” Yuri ran his hand over a stone railing. “The stonework is in good condition. It must be centuries since anyone last did any maintenance work, but everything still seems in its proper place. This room was built to last. Why did the church abandon it?”

Balthus’ eyes roamed across the room, looking for any clues. “Well, if I had to guess-“ His eyes widened as he pointed to a far-off corner. “I’ve seen that sort of damage before.”

Constance and Yuri followed Balthus’ finger before all three swerved back to stare at Hapi. Typical, really.

“Those are the same tunnels that- “

“Hapi, you didn’t- “

“I told you not to sigh- “

“-Maybe these are just from some that got lost, or something- “

“-To destroy such precious masonry- “

“All right shut up, the both of you!” Yuri shouted. Balthus and Constance grumbled. “Hapi, these…” Yuri made a gesture with his hand. ”….Tracks are the reason we’re here, yes?”

“Took you long enough, Yuri-bird.” Hapi stretched her arms over her head. “I want to show you guys something.”

“There are easier ways to try and kill me than sending monsters after my scent, you know.” Yuri said in deadpan. Constance still shrieked.

“Yuri! How dare you joke about that! Hapi is our friend! She would never try to bring us to harm!” Hapi thought Yuri did a remarkable job of not rolling his eyes.

“Yeah! So…why did you call us here?” Balthus asked.

“Chatterbox has been showing me-“ All three of her friends had completely blank looks. “Oh, right. I decided to call her Chatterbox. She’s the new professor topside. Do you know her?”

Balthus scratched his head. Constance shook hers. Yuri’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, so you’ve met her, Yuri-bird?”

“Byleth Eisner. She’s…” Yuri chewed on his lip. “…Dangerous. Asks dangerous questions. Has the ear of several dangerous people. Hard to get a read on her, but don’t tell her I said that. She’s been stalking around Abyss for a few months now.”

“She says she likes the quiet down here.” Hapi offered. Yuri didn’t look convinced. Hapi didn’t blame him. “But she’s some sort of expert with Crest powers. Knows all about them, apparently. Said she knew what was wrong with me, and how to control my curse.”

The three stood up straighter at that. “Did she now.” Yuri asked evenly.

“Believe me, she had to do a lot of convincing to make me a believer. But she’s legit.” Who knew anyone could summon monster with enough magic and a pretty metal rock?

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Constance shouted. “Hapi, I’m ecstatic for you!”

“That’s great, but what did she ask for in return? Something that big has to come with a steep price.” Balthus rubbed the back of his neck. It was a tell Hapi had seen Yuri take advantage of more than once at the card table.

“Oh, nothing major. Just that I risk my and her life by summoning monsters.”

“Hapi, you couldn’t have!” Constance stomped her foot down. “You mustn’t put yourself at such risk! I, Constance von Nuvelle, cannot allow you to put yourself, or anyone in such danger!”

“Yeah, I’ve been at tables with high stakes, but, uh…” Balthus was still rubbing his neck. “Well, stakes that high rarely end well for anyone involved.”

Hapi turned to Yuri, who hadn’t said a word. “No objection from you Yuri-bird?”

“Well, you’re still alive.” Yuri’s eyes had taken on a curious gleam. “Furthermore, this Byleth woman has a reputation for dealing with monsters.”

“Really?”

“She’s the one the knights have been raving on about. Saved the Blue Lions from a horde single handedly.” Balthus and Constance lit up at that.

“Really? That’s the woman who slew the horde?”

“Yup. She’s strong.” Hapi said. The blood still wouldn’t come out of her old shirt. “But to get back to why I brought you all here, I wanted to try something, and I needed your help.”

“Yeah? What do you need us to do?”

“Just stand there. Don’t move, don’t make any threatening moves…and please, trust me on this.”

“Of course!” Constance agreed. Balthus gave a hesitant nod. The curiosity in Yuri’s eyes had given way to an excited interest, while his hand drifted towards his sword. Hapi nodded, and then took a deep breath. She reached out with her hands, feeling a dark, murky power coursing through her. The Crest of Timotheos flared around her fingertips. She reached into her pocket, picked out the small metal trinket Chatterbox had given her, and let the power flow in and then out of the odd little sphere, just as she had practiced. And just as she had practiced, the energy flowed back into her body. But instead of the slippery feeling she usually had when trying to grapple with her Crest, it now felt softer. Easier to control. Hapi focused, closed her eyes, and let out a soft sigh.

At first, nothing happened. Yuri’s hand gripped his sword, Balthus shifted on his feet, and Constance tried to hide the magic she was summoning in her hand. The room was eerily still.

Then the ground began to shake. It began minutely, but before long, the entire room began to rumble. At last, an eruption of rock and dust spat forth from the ground. A worm emerged, extending itself upward into the open room, its head escaping the dim lamp’s ability to illuminate. The worm then lowered its head back down into the light, the top of its neck still shrouded in the ceiling’s darkness. Hapi fought down a gulp. This was bigger than any other monster she had ever seen, by a very large margin. There still had to be half of it buried beneath the ground. How long had it been sleeping down here? Was this why the room had been abandoned?

The creature had no eyes or any visible nostrils but seemed to sniff the air around her, or at least breath heavily in her direction as it leaned down. Hapi heard the mad shuffling of feet behind her, and the distinctive sound of Yuri’s sword slinking out of its sheath. The worm sniffed again, and its posture shifted, coiling back to prepare for attack. It began to make a sound almost like a hiss. The ozone of Constance’s magic began to waft through the air.

“Guys, don’t move!” Hapi shouted, not turning her back to the worm. “Trust me, please. Don’t try to attack.”

“I was thinking about running from the Giant Crawler.” Yuri shot back.

“It senses tremors in the earth! Just…don’t move. Please.” Hapi heard the three’s feet shift. They were tense but followed her request. The worm had not attacked anyone. Yet.

Hapi turned her attention back to the beast. It was still making its hissing noise, and still reared back. Hapi summoned her courage, summoned her Crest, and let the power flow into the worm. The beast began to breathe loudly, and its tongue began to slowly extend out of its mouth. It began to make the same heavy breathing noises that Hapi guessed meant it was smelling. Inch by inch, the worm lowered itself to Hapi. As it began to close in, she realized that the teeth (they weren’t really teeth per se, more like long, sharp, pointy bits of the worm’s- carapace? Exoskeleton? That happened to be placed around the worm’s mouth) were each about half the size of Balthus, and there was a whole lot of what she hoped was saliva on its tongue, and she was really beginning to doubt this entire stupid plan-

Hapi shooed her doubts away. She had gotten this far. She couldn’t back down now. Pouring more magic into her Crest, a small orb of magic formed in her hand, surrounding the small metal sphere. It felt like white magic. Hapi was no expert in healing spells and had never put much of an effort into practicing them, but her Crest had always allowed her to do more than others. But this magic looked different. It was a strange mix of an unnatural cool white light recovery spells sometimes had, but at the center of the orb of magic, a murky darkness ate at the surrounding light. Chatterbox said that was a natural part of her Crest when they had practiced. Hapi wondered if that was why dark magic came so naturally to her, even ignoring the experiments.

The worm’s tongue extended out, brushing against the magic. Hapi tried to keep herself from reacting as hot monster drool dripped into her hand. She failed. Unperturbed, the worm lapped at her hand, and then her face. Hapi pushed against her instinct to run. She held up the little sphere, focusing her energy. The worm let out another heavy breath, and in an instant, wrapped its tongue around the orb, grabbling magic and metal both, before rearing back, swallowing them whole.

That hadn’t happened when she had tried with Chatterbox.

Hapi wondered if her face looked more like more like a partially trapped rabbit that had just realized it was going to have to gnaw its foot off or a dead fish that had just figured out that the worm it bit had an odd metallic taste.

Yuri jumped forward, grabbing Hapi by the arm. “Your face says it’s time to go.”

The worm reared back and roared. Yuri started pulling. Constance was yelling something buried under the shaking earth. Balthus was strapping on his gauntlets. The room began to shake. Or perhaps it was spinning. Hapi couldn’t quite tell. She saw the worm begin its lunge in slow motion. Yuri was gripping her tighter, tensing to jump. Magic was burning in the air. The worm was closing in on them- no, on Yuri. Hapi didn’t know how she knew that, just that Yuri’s life was in danger. Spurred on by some desperate instinct, Hapi shouted:

“STOP!”

The rumbling stopped. Hapi realized she had closed her eyes. Opening them a millimeter at a time, Hapi saw a world frozen. The Crest of Timotheos was burning with a strange, muted light at her fingertips. The worm had stilled, barely a meter away from Hapi’s face, tongue extending out to strike at Yuri. Hapi looked back at the leader of their little band to see him also frozen. Not from whatever magic she had cast, but shock. His eyes darted between her and an all too close worm tongue. After a moment, Yuri regained his footing.

“Alright, it is officially time to go. Keep doing whatever it is you’re doing, but-“ Yuri began to pull on her arm again. The worm unfroze, a roared, rearing up.

“Stop!” Hapi shouted as she pulled against Yuri. The worm’s roar dulled to an earthy growl. Hapi freed her arm from Yuri’s grasp. “Remember. Trust me.”

Yuri looked pensive but stayed put. Hapi turned back to the worm. It’s growl still hummed through the earth. Hapi raised her hands. Her Crest still shone with its odd dim light. She took a breath, and then stepped forward.

It was difficult to track the worm’s attention- there were no eyes to follow, but Hapi sensed she had its undivided attention. She took another step. And then another. And another. The worm lowered its head low to the ground. Hapi took one final step, and then reached out, touching the beast on the head. The light of her Crest faded into the worm, and the beast’s growling slipped into a rumbling noise. If Hapi had to guess, she might call it purring.

Hapi was going the have to get a replacement orb from Chatterbox. She hoped it wasn’t too expensive.

“So…Is it safe to move now?” Balthus asked. Hapi shrugged.

“I think we should be fine, just so long as we don’t make any threatening moves.” Yuri said.

“More than that, you’ve done the impossible, Hapi!” Constance beamed. “You’ve managed to tame a demonic beast! Simply astonishing!” Hapi could hear her friend’s frown form. “But you’ve done this several times now, as the holes in the floor indicate. What happens now?”

“Well, I think I can tell it to go away. That’s what I did to the others, and I haven’t seen them-“ The worm licked Hapi’s face.

Hapi wiped the slobber from her face and counted herself lucky that she hadn’t allowed Constance to convince her to wear makeup today. She tried to glare the worm into shame. It didn’t react. Probably because it didn’t have eyes. “I get the feeling this one is gonna stay around for a while.” The Worm rumble-purred louder.

“What! Are you serious?” Balthus shot out. “We can’t let this thing loose in Abyss! Think of all the damage it could cause!”

“Not to mention the damage it could do to the foundation of Garreg Mach itself!” Constance said with a stomp of her foot.

Hapi rolled her eyes. “Relax B, Coco. I’m not just going to let- hmm.” She chewed on her lip. ”What am I going to call you? Can’t let you go without a name if you plan on sticking around.”

“How about Wormy?”

“Giant Giant Crawler?”

“The great and noble pet of the lady Timotheos!”

The worm let out a long breath. Hapi had to hold her hair back to keep it from hitting her eyes. Maybe that was how it sighed. Only slightly less destructive than her own. “I don’t think it likes any of those.” Hapi called back.

“What, it can understand us?” Another long breath. More hair in her face. It was at very least a _harrumph_.

“Hmmm…” Hapi’s mind wandered. What should one call a pet worm twice the size of two houses stacked on top of one another? “Actually…”

“What?”

“I remember something- a story back in my village. I don’t remember much, but the hero rode a worm into battle.”

“Really?” Yuri’s tone dripped with a mix of exasperation and curiosity.

“Something like that. It’s been a while.” Hapi said as she stroked the worm’s head. “I don’t quite remember the worm’s name, but I think it was something like…Shai.”

The rumble-purr returned. Hapi grinned. “We have a winner. Shai it is.”

Balthus took a careful step forward. “So now what are you going to do?”

“Well…” Hapi mused. “seeing how easy this taming thing was, I guess I could try to ride Shai into battle. That’ll scare off any troublemakers really quick. It’ll be a challenge holding on when Shai goes underground, but I think it’ll be worth it.” Shai let out a low vibrating hum.

Looking at her three friends with utterly stupefied expressions on their faces, miles below the surface of the earth, Hapi felt on top of the world.

Then Shai licked her again.

* * *

Jeralt massaged his forehead, trying to hide his eyes from the sun. “Yeah, sure kid. Good form.”

“Please Captain Jeralt, take this seriously! I screwed up on purpose this time!” Leonie had been nipping at Jeralt’s heels ever since he returned to Garreg Mach. Apparently, he had taught her the ropes a few years back, something Jeralt vaguely remembered.

It had been a while since Jeralt had gone on a binge that lasted days. During his brief time coherent enough to retain detailed memories, Jeralt learned that even the Abyss tavern would turn people away for drunkenness. Something about not wanting another tab that wouldn’t be paid. He and Aelfric had already laughed and cried at every memory they’d stumbled across in their stupor, and Jeralt couldn’t bring himself to face Sitri’s grave so soon. Then he ran into Leonie. Jeralt didn’t have the energy to shout her off. The girl didn’t seem to have an eye for details, and then he found himself being dragged off somewhere.

And so Jeralt found himself in the academy’s training hall, nursing his worst hangover in twenty years, being cajoled into offering advice like he was a professor. A least there was some shade to hide in. And by some small miracle, the hall was mostly empty. All the sounds Jeralt had to endure were fairly rhythmic weapon exercises. It was almost peaceful.

“…And that won’t do anything against stronger opponents. Please, teach me how!”

But then the girl had to talk and break the rhythm. Jeralt opened his eyes and looked in Leonie’s general direction. “Alright, kid. Show me your forms.”

Leonie happily crept into her stance and began practicing with her lance. Broad strokes reached too far away, forcing her footwork to overextend to compensate. Her balance was all over the place. A stiff breeze would probably send the girl tumbling. There was a blur at the edge of Jeralt’s vision. He turned to look. It was that one noble brat with the stupid hair.

Jeralt shook his head. There were too many bad haircuts for that to be specific. It had been well over a century since Jeralt had been a kid, but the fashion among nobles made his head spin. Some of the brats wore the usual overly groomed noble hairstyles, but other brats took it too far. There was one brat who wore his hair in what could only describe as a bowl made of noodles placed on top of his head. Others were clearly trying way too hard to look rugged, and utterly failing. They needed actual dirt under their fingernails and visible scars if they ever wanted to pull it off.

Then there was this idiot. It was- Jeralt wasn’t sure how to describe it. It was some sort of bowl cut, but the angles were too sharp to really call it that. It reminded Jeralt of that one stupid fad haircut in the clergy that had thankfully died out one hundred years ago or so. What was it called? It had been named after some important cardinal, or something. Fransissy? Fronny? Franziska? Jeralt couldn’t be bothered to remember. The point was, it somehow looked like the kid had a massive bald spot on the top of his head with just a ring of hair around his forehead, despite having a full head of hair. And he still couldn’t remember the stupid brat’s name.

“Lorenz! What are you doing here?” Oh good, Leonie knew him. Jeralt didn’t have to hurt his head trying to remember someone he’d never spoken to or about.

“You had offered to spar with me, and this is the appointed hour.” The brat with the stupid hair- no, Lorenz said. His eyes met Jeralt’s. The brat wasn’t impressed but hid it pretty well for someone barely off his wet-nurse’s teat. “Unless you have found a better partner?”

“Oh, well I ran into Captain Jeralt, and then I lost track of time, and-“ Leonie sputtered. Jeralt decided to save his throbbing head from anymore of the noise.

“I was looking over her lance forms. This is just a warmup.”

“Really.” Jeralt would backtalk the kid for the attitude, but Jeralt would probably have the same reaction if he saw himself sprawled out on the floor.

“Yes, really.” Jeralt rubbed his eyes as he stood up. He even went to the effort of not tumbling over when he got off the stone floor. How professional. It was like he was the captain of the knights again or something. “Leonie, you’re holding that spear like you were seven feet tall. Where’d you learn something that sloppy?”

Leonie blushed. “I-well, I watched you practice, and I figured…”

“Yeah, well I hold a spear like that cause I’m taller and wider than you.” Not to mention supernaturally stronger. He moved her hands the where they should have been. “You have to narrow your stance. Don’t overstep. It’s an easy way to lose your head.” Jeralt stepped back. “Now you try it.”

Leonie performed an exercise. Better, but still unpolished. There were a lot of little problems her professor should have fixed by now. “By the way, isn’t your teacher- what’s his name…”

“Professor Hanneman.” Lorenz supplied.

“Right. Hasn’t he been teaching you this stuff?” It was only his job.

Leonie pouted. “Professor Hanneman’s always busy. And he’s been working with me on archery and horseback riding. He says focusing on just two things yields the best results.”

“That is good advice.” Jeralt said. Leonie frowned.

“But I’ve got to catch up somehow! Your daughter- hell, everyone with a Crest just seems so powerful. I’ve got to keep training if I don’t want to be left in the dust! You must know that feeling, Captain Jeralt.” He didn’t, really.

Lorenz spoke up. “Your daughter’s exploits have also lit a fire in everyone at the monastery. We all wish to be strong enough to perform deeds as grand as her rescue of the Blue Lions. And now that the archbishop’s life has been threatened, we must train tirelessly to defend her.”

Oh, right. That all happened.

“Easy for you to say, you can afford private tutors…” Leonie muttered. Jeralt wondered if the hangover was making his hearing sharper.

“Unfortunately, that is a sad truth.” Oh, the girl just had no volume control. That explained it. “Which is why I happily agreed to assist in your training. It is my noble duty to keep your skills sharp.”

Leonie pouted. “Don’t say that. I’m helping you because we’re friends, not because of any noble crap.”

Lorenz smiled. “You are right, of course. I appreciate your aid, Leonie.”

Huh. If Jeralt was guessing the boy’s family correctly, the kid had better lines than his father and his grandfather. Though not better than his great-grandmother. But all this talk was making Jeralt’s head throb. “Alright, you came here to train, not gossip. Get to it.”

Jeralt settled back into an undignified slump, listening to the rhythmic beats of training weapons clashing. It was nostalgic to pretend to be a professor, really. Jeralt wondered why he hadn’t missed it more in the past twenty years.

“…Please take my handkerchief. It will do for a bandage.”

Oh right. The insufferable, juvenile attempts at flirting. Teenagers.

…Jeralt could only hope Byleth’s position as a professor warded off any desperate would-be suitors.

* * *

“I’m off to my training appointment with Professor Byleth. It’s at the forest’s edge.” Edelgard said.

Hubert nodded along as the two walked out of the dormitories. “I will have to cancel my plans, then.”

Edelgard raised her eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware of any meetings with any of the counts.”

Hubert chuckled. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I’ve just picked up a hobby.”

“Really? Do tell- “

Dorothea ran out of the greenhouse. “Hey Hubie! Ferdie just got his monthly allowance, and I was thinking about trying that coffee stuff you always guzzle. One of the merchants near the entrance has a premium blend for sale.”

“Premium, you say? Where did he tell you It was from?”

“Smuggled from the far east of Almyra.”

Hubert smirked. “It should be genuine.”

Dorothea gave a sultry smile. “Do you want a crack at him first? Or do you want to double team him, just this once?”

Hubert huffed out a laugh. “Regretfully, a matter has sprung up. You will have to brave it alone.”

Dorothea pouted. “But then it’ll just be me and him drinking. Ferdie is such a- ugh.”

“We all must make sacrifices.”

Dorothea sighed, walking towards the mess hall. “Alright, alright. Later Hubie.”

Edelgard raised an eyebrow. Hubert shrugged. “It started after Professor Eisner humiliated Ferdinand. Dorothea and I have made a game of seeing who was better at pulling his strings.”

“Really.”

“I’ve been impressed with her. I’m only two points ahead at the moment.” Hubert gave a bemused little huff.

“I’m surprised you can tolerate Ferdinand enough to bother.” Edelgard said.

Hubert smiled. “He is a driveling simpleton, but to his credit he is an easily manipulatable cretin.”

The two made their way down to the town. Things were busy due to the upcoming Rite of Rebirth, and even more so now that news of an assassination had spread. The merchants and soldiers didn’t have the time to spare any wandering students a glance, even the imperial heir and the son of Vestra.

Byleth was waiting on a little-used path stuck in between two dusty storage buildings. as soon as they made eye contact, Byleth turned and walked down the path. The three arrived at a clearing, just inside the first layer of trees in the forest which offered a reasonable amount of privacy. A man stood at the edge of the trees. It was Jeritza.

“What are you doing here, Death Knight?” Hubert growled.

Her troublesome knight stood relaxed, sparing her and Hubert no more interest than any other pupil he was forced to teach.

Jeritza stared back blankly. “I will battle Professor Eisner at the end of the month. I will observe your spar to learn what I can.”

Hubert blinked, before swearing. “You idiot, you can’t just reveal sensitive information to an enemy because-“

Jeritza cut through his voice with surprisingly little effort. “She already knows. Do not worry yourself over matters of no consequence.”

Edelgard was less surprised by the outburst than she should have been. “You plan to stop the mission in the tomb?”

Byleth took a practice sword and axe that were leaning next to a tree and tossed Edelgard the axe. “Claude and Dimitri are not unintelligent. They will have little difficulty piecing together that the tomb is the only place that can be struck.” Byleth tested the sword’s weight and balance with a few swings. “It would only take one class to trounce the graverobbers, so long as they take care not to annoy the Death Knight.” Jeritza nodded. “Your own house members are similarly inquisitive. You should join together with them.”

Edelgard swung the axe she had been given. It was well suited for her build. “And why should I strike against my tentative allies? We share the same goals.”

“Aside from the fact that stopping a grave robbery is a good thing?” Byleth held her sword at her side. “You will be able to see what lies in Serios’ coffin.”

Edelgard narrowed her eyes. Byleth did not move from her relaxed posture. Edelgard adjusted her grip one more time, and charged.

* * *

Ten minutes.

Edelgard had fought for ten minutes, away from prying eyes. She had no need to hold back in front of her peers like she did in the training hall. There was no Claude trying to egg her on in front of Byleth. No need to pretend that she hadn’t had the best tutors drill martial combat into her brain until it was second nature.

In ten minutes, Byleth had only raised her sword to parry. Edelgard had not landed a single blow. Byleth had not yet broken a sweat.

Edelgard breathed heavily. The Crest of Serios boosted her strength and endurance to superhuman levels, but that mattered little when she couldn’t hit her target. She had called on the Crest of Flames, which allowed her to sense out a rough vision of the next few seconds in time, but Byleth still had no difficulty dancing around her. Edelgard would foresee one movement, adjust her strike accordingly, and Byleth would still have no trouble blocking or dodging whatever attack Edelgard mustered. The professor’s movements were inhumanly graceful, and all the more infuriating. But something more gnawed at Edelgard’s concentration. Byleth’s hair had no respect for momentum. It did not kick up when it should have. It did not toss like gravity demanded. Her hair refused to part and reveal Byleth’s ears.

Thinking back, Edelgard could not recall ever seeing her professor’s ears. As long as she had known the woman, Byleth had always kept them hidden behind her strange mint green hair. Just like Rhea. Just like Seteth. Like all the ‘children of the goddess’.

Like an inhuman monster.

Edelgard aimed at Byleth’s head, desperate to cut the too long, too green hair and reveal Byleth’s secrets. Each time Edelgard tried, be it by feint, false pattern, or straightforward attack, Byleth would bring her sword up and block. And each time Edelgard failed, the more she felt her frustration grow.

“Break.” Byleth declared, sheathing her sword in the loose forest earth. Edelgard lowered her weapon. She was still slightly short of breath. Byleth tilted her head, studying Edelgard’s form.

“You’ve been using the Crest of Flames to look into the future.” Byleth said. Edelgard’s eyes narrowed.

“You know that.”

“I do.” Byleth said.

“How do you know that?”

Byleth gave no expression. “You know that.”

Edelgard’s eyebrow twitched. “You have a Crest.” Byleth didn’t respond. “Which one?”

Hubert and Jeritza tensed. Byleth’s perplexingly familiar green eyes did not look away from Edelgard’s.

“I keep reliving my life, over and over again, as though I were traveling through time.” Byleth’s voice was monotone, yet soft. “It stands to reason that if I had a Crest, it would be related to my problem. Only one Crest fits.”

Edelgard’s brows furrowed. How did Byleth receive her Crest of Flames? Were they both experimented on? Did they both meet in the distant past, and did Edelgard once again forget something important, as Hubert suspected? Edelgard’s instincts burned, and she dared to ask.

“Where did you get your Crest?”

“From Rhea.” Byleth said with a casual bluntness.

Edelgard’s mind swam. “Did she insert it forcefully? Is she experimenting on…humans? Like Arundel?”

“No. It saved my life.”

Edelgard wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Her confusion was broken when Byleth spoke, unprompted. “Would you like to learn how to use the Crest of Flames’ other powers?”

Edelgard blinked. “What?” Hadn’t she already been doing that? Her second Crest could do more than see into the future? “What other powers does it possess?”

Byleth turned and called out to Jeritza. “I need to give you two shallow hits. Your reward is information on how my Crest functions in battle.”

Jeritza sprinted forward, standing at ease next to Byleth.

“The Crest of Flames grants three main powers besides minor precognition.” Byleth said. “The first, and easiest to master, heals wounds.” Byleth took a knife from her belt and cut into her palm.

She at least bled red like a human.

Byleth took her sword from its place on the ground and struck Jeritza in the chest. He stumbled back but was unharmed. Byleth held out her hand for Edelgard to see. The blood began to creep back up into the wound, leaving no trace or residue as it went. After all the blood had flowed back into the cut, the wound itself sealed closed, leaving fresh unscarred skin.

Edelgard stared in awe. She was not the only one. Byleth was unperturbed. “Its power is similar to the Crest of Riegan, meaning you must inflict damage in order to take the energy required to heal. Instead of light transforming into flesh to regenerate, the energy you take is used to undue the wound itself, making it as though no damage was ever dealt.”

Edelgard stared. Byleth continued. “The second power is more offensive in nature.” Byleth lazily swung her sword near Jeritza’s chest. It was clear the strike would not land on any target.

A split second later, the sword had appeared mere centimeters away from Jeritza’s neck. Edelgard gaped. Had she blinked? Jeritza’s eye were comically wide as he stared down at the blade. Hubert was similarly stunned in the distance.

“The second power allows you to accelerate in time. This has the obvious benefit of speeding up your own attacks, increasing their power, and throwing off your opponent’s guard.” Byleth lowered her sword. “It allows for unexpected feints and movements, so you do not need to commit to an action when you use this power. unlike many other Crests that increase attack power, It also works with both physical and magical attacks.”

Byleth nodded at Jeritza. “When I land this hit, attempt to counterattack.” Jeritza sunk into a boxer’s stance. Byleth’s sword descended downward and hit Jeritza in the chest once again. It was a shallow hit, one that Jeritza would have no trouble enduring. But Jeritza did not strike back. There was an unnatural stillness in his posture, as if he was frozen. Byleth jumped back. A second later, Jeritza’s fist shot up to where Byleth’s face had been, before he stopped, blinking in surprise.

“The third ability is the power to temporarily freeze opponents in place.” Byleth said. “It only lasts for a few moments, but it can save you or a friend. Again, it requires that an attack makes contact to work.”

Edelgard’s mouth felt numb, but she forced it open regardless. “A-and…I can do all these things too?”

“Yes.”

Edelgard swallowed. “How do I activate them?”

Byleth’s face remained furiously devoid of emotion. “They are just like any other Crest. You have to want it.”

Edelgard gripped her axe. Byleth held her sword at her side. Edelgard charged.

But the exercise proceeded just like the first. Edelgard kept attacking, and Byleth kept dodging. Try as she might, Edelgard could not force the Crest of Flames to activate. The only power of real consequence in this fight was the second, the ability to accelerate her own attacks. Healing was meaningless in a fight where her opponent would not attack. Freezing Byleth only meant anything if Edelgard could hit Byleth. But she could not force the Crest of Flames to activate.

Swing after swing after swing remained stubbornly slow. Edelgard grit her teeth. She had to want it? She wanted to hit Byleth.

Edelgard swung down. Byleth parried.

She wanted to force the woman to admit some measure of weakness like all the other humans around her.

Edelgard feinted right. Byleth barely moved to dodge.

She wanted some emotion to color her face after months of seeing nothing but that emotionless gaze.

Edelgard swung again. Edelgard missed again.

Most of all, she wanted to see Byleth’s hair part, and reveal its secret. For Byleth to stop taunting her with inhuman grace and foreknowledge. For the woman before her to take Edelgard seriously, instead of fighting like she was nothing more than a helpless _child_.

_Arundel looked down at her, unimpressed. “Again, until you can manage a single blow against me. Or is that too much to ask Ionius’ last daughter?”_

She _needed_ to force Byleth to react to _her_.

An unfamiliar sensation ignited at her fingertips. In that instant, Edelgard knew how to activate the Crest of Flames.

Her axe swung down in her right hand on Byleth’s left cheek. Byleth raised her blade to block, committing to the movement. In the blink of an eye, Edelgard’s left hand had appeared next to Byleth’s head, knife gleaming.

Byleth’s expression did not change, but she leaned left to dodge. It was still too late. Mint green hair fell to the forest floor, and then silence reigned.

Hidden behind Byleth’s hair was an inhuman, unnatural, pointed ear.

“You…” Edelgard’s throat felt dry. “You aren’t human.”

Byleth did not react. “You put a perplexing emphasis on species.”

“You’re one of them! The ‘children of the goddess!’” Edelgard stepped forward. “Just like Rhea is. She isn’t human either! She’s a one-thousand-year-old monster controlling the church!”

Byleth blinked. “What is your point?”

Edelgard stopped. “What?”

“Both Rhea and I are Nabataean. We are not human. What is your point?”

“I…What is my…” Edelgard felt like she should have been angrier. “She’s been controlling humanity for millennia! She stifled technology and kept humanity from achieving its own destiny!”

Byleth blinked again. Edelgard pressed forward.

“No playing dumb? No snappy response? Give me something, _professor_.”

“As you wish.” Byleth tilted her head. “Humans are more than willing and capable of destroying each other’s progress, crushing countless dreams, and manipulating everyone and everything they are allowed to. Your father’s current state is a prime example of this.”

That hurt more than it should have. Edelgard gritted her teeth. “That doesn’t mean Rhea has the right to suppress us.”

“Many humans would say she’s kept the peace as best anyone could.”

“She lied to the world and created a false history so she could rule with power stolen from humanity!”

“Aiding and abetting graverobbers intent to rob your host seems less than honest and quite selfish.”

Edelgard hissed. “I am nothing like that beast in human skin! I am well aware of the cost of my actions and _I_ will not cling to power forever like _she_ does!”

Byleth hummed.

“She did nothing as two separate wars tore the empire, and then the kingdom apart in order to make us humans fight against ourselves! She enforces the Crest system with her false religion!”

Byleth shrugged. “This sounds like a debate you should have with Rhea, not me.”

“What!” Edelgard’s eyes burned. “Absolutely not! She would use it as an excuse to destroy me, call me a heretic, to burn me at the- “

“She wouldn’t.” For a voice with so little volume and less emotion, Byleth was perplexingly good at cutting others off. “You are heir apparent to the Adrestian Empire. Rhea, no matter how powerful you think she is, cannot simply order your execution or your disappearance.”

“Titles didn’t stop my uncle.” Edelgard growled out.

That gave Byleth pause. She opened her mouth, before closing it again. It was odd how human that made her look. “…How much of your knowledge came from your uncle?”

Edelgard snorted. “What, don’t you already know?”

“I say this because he might have given a few subtle hints that he is not the most trustworthy source of information.”

Edelgard scowled. “So you think I should just hang on to the church’s teat?”

“Listening to both sides and coming to your own conclusions is not unreasonable.”

“Why am I even listening to you?” Edelgard muttered. “You’re one of them! You’re a child of- a Nabataean- whatever your kind is called! You’re on Rhea’s side!”

“I’m not sure you understand what Rhea wants.” Byleth said.

Edelgard rolled her eyes. “Then if you know so much, why don’t you tell us?”

“She wanted me.”

Edelgard didn’t know what to make of that. A quiet settled over the clearing. Hubert looked pensive. Jeritza’s lips were pressed in a thin line.

Byleth sighed. “For whatever it’s worth to you…” A sudden movement next to Byleth’s feet caught Edelgard’s attention. It was the severed hair strands. They were floating up to Byleth’s head. A few small hairs that had clung to Edelgard’s knife floated back towards their owner. “…Rhea will not harm you because I will not allow her to.” The hair reattached itself to Byleth, as if Edelgard had never cut it.

 _I am power without equal,_ Byleth’s voice echoed in her mind. _No matter what Thales tells you._

A tangled web of something too heavy to describe smothered Edelgard.

“War is a terrible thing, Edelgard.” Byleth’s voice was soft. “You should not start one so willingly.”

Did Byleth think she didn’t know that? Edelgard had seen suffering firsthand. She knew the cost of bloodshed. Besides, she didn’t have a choice. If she didn’t start the war herself, Arundel would. She had to use what resources she had available, no matter how morally repulsive, to change the world for the better. If she didn’t fix the world, no one would. No one could, as long as Rhea reigned over the continent. Only Edelgard possessed the power to oppose the monster with a shadow so large that it loomed across the entire world. She had to act quickly. The havoc her two Crests played on her health made her time painfully limited. There was no time to act in any way but decisively. Who was Byleth to tell her to just stop?

Byleth was walking away. She paused, before turning back to face Edelgard. “Come by my office in two days’ time.”

“What? Why?”

“Since the beginning of the semester, I have been working with Hanneman to create a cure for your disease.” Byleth said. “In two days, it shall be completed. We can discuss the details there.”

Edelgard did not sleep that night. She stared up into the star-filled sky until dawn blotted out the thousand shining little lights with a single, inevitable conclusion.

* * *

**6 th of Blue Sea Moon**

_I think you screwed up._ Sothis yawned. _We should just turn back time and try whatever you thought any of that nonsense was again._

Byleth sat in her office, watching students mill about in the courtyard through her window. _Things with Edelgard never start easily. Give it time._

Sothis snorted. _Give it time, she says. Ha._

A nock rattled at her door. “Come in.” Byleth said.

Out of the brightly lit hallway, Dimitri and Dedue stepped in. Dedue was stoic as always. Dimitri’s expression was uncharacteristically difficult to read.

“Professor.” Dimitri’s voice was quiet. “I wanted to talk to you. About Lonato. About…” He swallowed. “…Conversations I’ve overheard.”

 _We should turn back time._ Sothis was alert. _This can’t end well._

Byleth considered for a moment. _No, it won’t._ She agreed. _But I won’t use my power to hide from consequences._ She looked Dimitri in the eye and saw the dull echo of ghosts smoldering with hate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [dox](https://paradoxsage.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!
> 
> Hapi has called a big one! Again, it is the legend.
> 
> And hints of pairings will be trickling in here and there, so keep your eyes out for your favorites, I’ll make sure to not include them.
> 
> Dimitri drama next chapter. Stay tuned.


	15. The Long Road

Dealing with Edelgard and Rhea was painful, lengthy, at parts both delicate and tedious, and inevitable. Even if Byleth chose to run as far and as fast as possible from Fódlan. Even if Byleth failed to talk Edelgard down, or the very rare cases where Rhea fell into madness through some sloppy error on Byleth’s part, the road forward would have minimal casualties.

Despite the violence, despite all the hate and sorrow, despite the societal-defining stakes, Edelgard and Rhea were predictable.

Claude’s actions were harder to foresee. His end goal was always set in stone, but his reactions were inconsistent. He had a habit of overthinking small details, which would lead him to do things that Byleth wasn’t certain he could explain.

Even still, his objective was always the same, and always something Byleth could help him achieve.

Then there was Dimitri.

The prince was complicated. He was at once entirely predictable, and all too unstable for any plan involving him not to go awry. All it took was one slip up, a few careless words, and Dimitri would flip the table and take any pretense of geopolitical stability along with him. Another careless word and he would march off into a needless, pointless doom all on his own, and leave the kingdom in a ruined state for a generation.

Dimitri cared about his kingdom and the atrocities it had suffered and committed. Too deeply to not destroy himself, too brilliantly not to inspire thousands to his side, and too completely not to risk annihilating himself and everything he had worked towards over his principles and honor.

And here Dimitri stood, his eyes harsh and pleading behind a neutral façade as he hovered near Byleth’s desk, his friend and retainer Dedue standing behind him.

“What rumors have you heard about me?” Byleth’s monotoned.

Dimitri bit his lip. “That…that you have…a gift. Of prophecy.”

Byleth cocked her eyebrow. “That’s…Where did you hear that?”

Dimitri shifted. “A few days ago…I heard from another stu-“ Dimitri coughed, recomposing himself. “I mean, I overheard a few students muttering something to that effect, maybe a week ago.”

His delivery was far too polished to not have rehearsed that line at least a dozen times in front of an audience.

“May I ask who you overheard, and their exact wording?”

Dimitri coughed. “Well, I don’t want to get them in any trouble, and it might just be my own interpretation, and it was in the early morning while the…person… was in a foul mood. So I think it best if I didn’t color your opinion of them.”

Vague, general statements. Plenty of plausible deniability. Trying to reframe the question entirely. Byleth didn’t think Claude’s busy schedule would allow him to oversee Dimitri rehearsing.

Sothis growled. _That stupid boy. Why must he meddle!_

 _I will corner Claude later. It’s been a while since he’s pulled something like this._ Byleth held Dimitri’s eyes. “But you stick by the idea that I can see the future?”

Dimitri tensed. “It seems ridiculous, but…” He sucked in a breath. “You…In the canyon, you knew things.” Dimitri waited for Byleth to react. She gave none. “When you saved me by pushing me out of the way of the monster’s claw…It was like you already knew what was going to happen.”

Byleth remained quiet. Dimitri’s eyes hid nervousness.

Dedue broke the silence. “You drilled us in combating monsters the week before we set out to the canyon. You knew we were going to fight the creatures somehow.”

Byleth locked eyes with Dimitri. He swallowed, before pressing on. “The magic you cast- I am a poor mage, but I know spells strong enough to sends beasts staggering take years of dedication and training.” Dimitri swallowed. “I asked some of your father’s mercenaries.” Byleth did not allow her face to move. “They said you had never shown any interest in magic, much less cast a single spell.” Dimitri lips thinned. “Some say they have known you for ten years. They say you have always been strange, but lately you are…” Dimitri kept looking for something in Byleth’s face. “All the mercenaries said you had blue hair until you met us.”

“Hair color comes in a bottle.”

“I-That’s…” Dimitri cut of an exasperated sigh. “That is…not a denial.”

“It is not.”

Dimitri’s eyes grew hard. “Do you know the future or not?”

 _Well?_ Sothis tapped her ghostly foot. _You didn’t tell Dimitri these things for a reason. Just turn back time, grab Claude by the ear, politely remind him not to do stupid things, and then throw him out the window for good measure!_

_Your concern for the students warms my heart._

Sothis scoffed. _It’s not like he won’t survive. Or land on his feet._ She cracked her knuckles. _You’re stronger than me. Together, we can turn back time for a day, at least. Let’s find out when Claude blabbed, then go back and-_

Byleth sighed. Dimitri’s quagmire of emotions was steadily creeping onto his face as her silence continued. Dedue’s annoyance was subtly shifting his stern face. Color inverted, and time stopped. Sothis paused, looking towards Byleth.

_We don’t need to stop time to reverse it, you know._

In another instant, darkness enveloped them. A dim green light shone, And the two now stood at the foot of their throne.

“We are not going to turn back time.” Byleth said. Sothis blinked, but nodded.

“Fine. You want to see how it plays out. That’s fine. Whenever you’re ready to undo it all, just warn me, because I am not ready to just-“

“You misunderstand.” Byleth’s voice descended like a guillotine. “We are not going to turn back time. Not now. Not ever.”

“What!” Sothis shrieked. “Why not? It’s the one foolproof method we have to circumvent anything and everything! Why on earth would you swear off that kind of power?”

“Because I don’t know how this will end. It has been a very long time since Claude has tried something like this, and even longer since I told Dimitri this early on.” Ailell had spread deep into Faerghus at the end of that life.

Sothis’ eyebrow twitched. “All the more reason to turn back time.”

Byleth shook her head. “It means something has changed.”

“And? So what?”

“I’ve spent my life trying and failing to escape from an unending loop. No magic I’ve ever found ends-“

“Yes yes yes yes yes! You’ve told me. What does that have to do with you deciding to pursue this stupid idea?”

“Because if magic can’t help me escape from my prison, then my only hope is to change the course of time. I don’t know what triggers my return. Sometimes I’m asleep, sometimes I’m awake. Sometimes I’ve just ended the Agarthans. Other times I’m looking over humans landing on the moon. I can only guess at is that minute changes in the flow of time affect me and my return.”

“And this means…?”

“Dimitri hasn’t been told anything this early in a very long time. I’ve learned how to minimize the damage since then. This is another avenue to explore.” Byleth looked out into the shadows. “I’ve spent countless lifetimes chasing down these what-ifs, in the hope that one of them will change my fate. Will allow me to simply exist, without fear that the next moment I’ll be back in that damn village. _Again_.”

Sothis leaned against the throne’s armrest. “But what if someone dies?”

“I won’t let that happen.”

Sothis’ head tilted curiously. Byleth stared ahead, uncompromising. Sothis matched her gaze. The dull green light flickered, and Sothis spoke again.

“Are you going to tell Dimitri what he wants to know?”

Byleth’s eye drifted down the staircase. In her mind’s eye, darkness always hid the graves Rhea had laid. She sometimes wondered If Sothis could see them. “I’ll explain myself.”

Sothis met her eye again. She sighed. “You’re an idiot.”

“Even you couldn’t possibly comprehend my stupidity.”

With a dull flash of the kaleidoscope, Byleth was back in her office. Another flash, and time resumed. She looked Dimitri in the eye. “Do you swear to keep this to yourself?”

Dimitri’s lips were thin. He nodded. Byleth turned to Dedue. The quiet man blinked, before dipping his head in agreement.

“Yes. It is true. I can see the future.”

Dimitri swallowed. He shifted on his feet, and looked at Dedue. Dimitri’s face twitched. Dedue nodded and Dimitri turned back to face Byleth.

“Since our mission to the canyon, at very least.” Dimitri’s words plodded out slowly, deliberately.

“Yes.”

“The…other student claims you can see years into…their future. Is that true?”  
“Yes.”

Dimitri’s gloves audibly squeaked as his fists curled. “Did you know about Lord Lonato?” His eyes stormed through a dozen different emotions, all fighting to be the first to grab hold of Dimitri when Byleth gave her answer. She sighed, and let her answer drip out.

“Yes.”

Dimitri’s fist slammed down on Byleth’s desk. The wood shuddered at the impact.

“Then why didn’t you tell anyone!” Dimitri’s voice demanded, but his eyes pleaded. “Archbishop Rhea, the knights, your own father, nobody knew why Lonato attacked us! IF you had just said something, _anything_ , I might have been able to prevent needless bloodshed! Instead, Lonato attacked us before I could make him see reason, and Ashe wouldn’t- “

“Dimitri.” Byleth kept her voice calm. “What makes you think that you would have been able to stop the battle if you knew why Lonato was attacking?”

Dimitri’s face morphed into a confused scowl. “I’ve spent the past week watching myself kill my own subjects every night, why do you _think_ I would want to know how to stop- “

Byleth didn’t have time to stop and count all the red flags in that sentence. “What I mean is, why do you think Lonato would let himself be reasoned with?”

Dimitri paused. His eyes narrowed dangerously, but he didn’t make any aggressive movements.

“Lonato amassed an army against the church, and then personally attacked the rearguard of the force sent to meet him. He carried a note on his person that told of a plot to assassinate the archbishop. His mind was set.”

Dimitri exhaled harshly. “The other student told me that you knew his future in excruciating detail just days after we had met.”

They were about halfway to Dimitri’s real aim. Byleth let Dimitri take a few more breaths before answering. “That is true.”

“Then it stands to reason you knew of Lonato’s rebellion. Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t you stop it from ever happening!”

Byleth sighed. This was a truly exhausting question she invariably had to deal with, each and every time she returned to the past. Usually Edelgard was the first to ask the question, after she had revealed the fact that she was the goddess incarnate. Sometimes Hubert beat her to the punch. More rarely, Claude would ask it an as awkward a manner as possible for his own curiosity and amusement (Though Byleth would admit that Lorenz’s offended squawks were entertaining). Then there were two separate occasions when Raphael of all people asked in front of a crowded room.

If Byleth was the goddess, why did she allow bad things to happen?

“Because I couldn’t.”

“You knew! You knew he was about to rebel-“

“Dimitri.” Byleth did not raise her voice. “How long does it take to assemble an army and convince them to attack an enemy they have no hope of defeating?”

Dimitri stared at Byleth, simmering.

“Even if I could somehow convince Lonato to abandon his crusade,” There was a one in four chance of success in Byleth’s experience. “That doesn’t mean he would just give up his crusade. Hatred cannot be so easily tossed aside.” When the war started, (and it always did when Byleth went to try and divert Lonato, as convincing Edelgard required all the time Byleth could get) The Lord of Gaspard would pledge his allegiance to the empire, further complicating the conflict. Trying to convince Lonato of the Western Church’s corruption when their claws were already so deep into him was difficult, at best. “Just because I know what people are going to do doesn’t mean I can change them.”

“You could have tried.” Dimitri said.

“I could have.” Byleth nodded. “But Lonato had long since made his decision. Am I responsible for their bad choices?”

“You have power unlike anyone in history, surely you could have done something-“

“And forgo other responsibilities? I have not been idle Dimitri. Garreg Mach is one of the four seats of power in Fódlan. Many important people and events begin and end here. Should I have left them hanging in the wind?”

The problem of evil was ancient when Sothis was first born, but it still plagued Byleth, again and again and _again._ In her folly, Rhea had decided to preach that Sothis was not only omniscient, but also Omnipotent. While Byleth supposed the first charge had some truth (now, at least) It was yet another stupid, emotional decision Rhea had made long ago that Byleth would have fix, one painful conversation at a time. Even with the power to turn back the hands of time, Byleth’s hold on time was just as preciously limited as anyone else.

Dimitri’s had done very little blinking. His breath was on the edge of shortening. He glanced back at Dedue who nodded. Dimitri leaned forward, looming over Byleth, who remained seated. Dimitri took a breath, and then another, before words finally began to tumble out of his mouth.

“What do you know about Duscur?”

And with those words, Dimitri had laid bare his intention. This meeting would no longer be about anything else, and all other questions were of no concern. Byleth breathed in. “Dedue hails from that land.”

Dimitri bit his lip. “You know I’m not talking about that.”

Byleth forced herself to not look away. “Please be more specific-”

Dimitri’s fist slammed on the desk. Wood chips flew everywhere. Byleth raised her hand and cast a shield. Splinters dug into Dimitri’s uniform. He did not flinch, and his eyes never left Byleth’s. “You know of the tragedy of Duscur.”

And there it was. Dimitri’s thirst for vengeance. If he was already this high strung, simply telling him would only end in a bloodier tragedy.

“Just because I can see the future doesn’t mean that-“

“You don’t see it, you’ve lived it!” Dimitri snapped. “I’ve played your game quietly until now, but it’s obvious your hiding what you really know.” A shadow passed by the window, darkening Dimitri’s right eye. “You hide and stall. You know so much of Lonato, of Zanado, of everything, but you turn a blind eye to Duscur? Tell me who did it.”

And here was the branch of fate. Could Byleth keep Dimitri restrained before he burned down all of Faerghus in his quest for revenge, or could she move him to a place where he would be able to put his faith in Byleth’s own machinations? Simply not telling would be similarly disastrous. A dangerously frustrated Dimitri was a dangerously unpredictable Dimitri. Extracting a promise for him not to interfere was equally worthless, as Dimitri was likely to break it at what he thought to be a promising opportunity, damning the consequences at a turn.

A flicker of movement played at the edge of Byleth’s vision, and she found her out. “I can tell you some things about the tragedy, if you promise me one thing.”

Dimitri’s eyes steeled themselves again. “Name your price. To avenge the dead, I will pay any-“

Byleth coughed. “My apologies. I was not asking a favor of you Dimitri.”

Dimitri blinked, before turning his head. Dedue’s scowl had morphed into a furrowed brow. “Me?”

“Yes.”

Dedue shared a look with Dimitri, before his face slipped into a neutral expression. “Name it.”

“That you will promise to keep Dimitri from doing anything rash, or attacking anyone before you give me the chance to advise him not to.”

Dedue’s expression narrowed. “I am just as eager as his Highness to punish the perpetrators. Duscur’s dead demand revenge.”

“As does my family.” Dimitri turned back to face Byleth, eyes burning. “Why? Why should we wait? Why should those killers walk free even a moment longer? Why are they still alive?”

“Because, as you both have guessed, the people who orchestrated that bloody day are very powerful, and simply wringing their necks creates all sorts of unnecessary complications.”

“I am the crown prince of Faerghus!” Dimitri’s fist fell again. Byleth raised her shield, and the desk collapsed. Byleth looked down at the broken wood before glancing up at Dimitri. A foreboding scowl consumed his face. “I don’t care who it is! Whichever snakes need to be destroyed will die at my hand, no matter what pretty little title they hide behind!”

“Their deaths are well deserved.” Dedue’s expression mirrored Dimitri’s. “No matter what, I will protect his highness from whatever assassins and cutthroats the murderers hire to stop us-“

“Even if killing them dooms Duscur forever?”

Dimitri and Dedue stilled, their expressions frozen.

Byleth rose from her chair, brushing aside debris. “Those who you wish to kill also hold the key to exonerating Duscur. They are the only ones who can convince Faerghus that Duscur is not to blame. That-“

“You’re wrong!” Dimitri shouted. “When I’m king, people will have to listen to me! Rodrigue already believes me, and together we can easily sway the other lords to the truth!”

Byleth tilted her head. “For how long has Lord Rodrigue believed you?”

“For years. Since the beginning. He has told many other lords the truth-“

“If the word of the Shield of Faerghus and the crown prince, who was the only survivor,” Byleth let her voice sharpen. “Is not enough to convince a nation of who the villains of the tragedy are, then what changes when the prince becomes king?”

“I-“ Dimitri sputtered. “I’ll be their king! They will have to listen to me!”

“Do they listen to your uncle?”

Dimitri grew quiet. He stared at Byleth. She stood atop the rubble of her desk, serene. “The web of corruption that led to Duscur ensnares your nation. To convince Faerghus of Duscur’s innocence will be to convince your people of their own crimes. It will be a struggle a decade long.” Byleth took a step forward, past the shattered wood and broken finish and onto the stone floor. Dimitri staggered backwards as Byleth advanced. “The first step is to have the conspirator’s own records and weapons used against them. To reveal who truly slew your father. For the people of Faerghus to accept a villain other than Duscur.”

“Damn the consequences!” Dimitri shouted. “I will avenge my father and mother, the knights, everyone! If my people refuse to accept the truth; I’ll force them to!”

“Like your own people forced Duscur to heel?” Byleth asked.

Dimitri slammed his foot down. The floor shook. “The dead must be avenged! If that damns Duscur, then I will burn everything to get my vengeance!“

Byleth remained unflappable. “Do you have an opinion, Dedue?”

Dimitri turned and stared at Dedue. The man of Duscur was staring at Byleth. He turned to Dimitri, and then back at Byleth, before clearing his throat. “The Professor is not wrong.”

“Dedue?” Dimitri’s voice was a whisper.

“The people of Faerghus bear a great hatred for Duscur. It will take time and patience to change their minds.”

Byleth spoke up, and Dimitri’s head spun back to face her. “Your goal is to help rebuild Duscur, is It not? I promise you, if you ride out now after I give you a few names, It will remain a barren wasteland.”

“I- but…” Dimitri clutched his head. “Revenge…The dead must…But…”

Dimitri stood shivering before slowly lowering his hands from his face. He swallowed. “How…How do I know any of this is true?”

Byleth’s lips thinned. She spoke slowly. “I am working with Rhea to uproot the conspiracy. If nothing else, I would ask you to trust her judgment for a few months more.”

“And if I take any action…” Dimitri swallowed. “…Duscur is doomed?”

“…All my experience says that it will not end well.”

“I…” Dimitri’s eyes Jerked down to the floor. “Revenge…I must…But Duscur…”

“Your highness.” Dedue stepped forward. Dimitri’s eyes jerked up. Dedue bowed. “Allow me another vow, not to our professor, but to you. Allow be to be your shield in all things, including yourself.”

Dimitri gasped. “I- Dedue, I cannot- what I said, I didn’t mean-“

“Your Highness.” Dimitri’s eye widened. Byleth wondered back trying to think of the last time Dedue had cut Dimitri off. “There is nothing to forgive. Rage burns brightly. It makes us say things we never would.”

“I…” Dimitri looked away, shame pouring off his face. “….Professor. Is there nothing else you can tell me?”

Byleth chewed her lip. “…Be wary of Cornelia. She has…poor sources of information. It might lead her to tell you untrue things.”

Dimitri stiffened, studying Byleth’s face. “…For now, I will put my faith in you.” He turned and stumbled out of the room. Dedue stayed a moment longer, before following the prince out of Byleth’s office.

Byleth began to turn, before color inverted, and a faint green glow consumed Byleth. She once again stood at her throne. Sothis stood before her arms folded.

“What?” Byleth asked.

Sothis stared at her. Byleth crossed her arms. Sothis’ eyes narrowed. “You’re an idiot.”

“I am aware. Now, if you would-“ Byleth stopped when Sothis reached up and slapped her across the face.

“No, you moron! You could have stopped it all from the beginning!” Sothis snapped.

“I just explained how I couldn’t do anything. Either Lonato would quietly wait for another moment to march to his death, or he would-“ Sothis slapped her again.

“Idiot! You could have just told Rhea that The Western Church was planning to move against her and used that as an excuse to garrison knights in Gaspard territory, preventing Lonato from forming his little army!”

“I can’t control all the knights; they might have done something reckless-“

The punch rang Byleth’s ear. “Do you even listen to yourself?” Sothis hissed. “ _You_ can’t control people.” She gave Byleth a contemptuous glare. “Thinking only _you_ can save the world. Thinking know what’s best for everyone- and don’t you dare claim that’s true.”

Byleth didn’t say anything. Sothis’ breath hitched. “Next time you decide that you can’t do anything, I’m going to have words with you. Remember, _you won’t let that happen._ ”

With another flash, Byleth stood before her ruined desk. Picking up a piece, Byleth wondered if someone could make anything out of the wreck, or if the whole broken structure was nothing more than kindling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to [Dox](https://paradoxsage.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!
> 
> This chapter refused to be written. You may be able to guess just form the writing. I still won’t say I’m happy with it, but a month’s wait is too long. Expect the next chapter in 1-1.5 weeks.
> 
> In other news, 400 kudos! Thanks everyone!


	16. The Leader's Path

**7 th of Blue Sea Moon**

Dimitri was sitting at his usual table when Claude entered the dining hall, surrounded by the end of the breakfast rush. Claude picked up a plate of food before giving his best casual saunter, slowly making his way to the prince’s seat, waving at Raphael and Ingrid on his way past them.

“Hey Dimitri.” Claude kept his tone light. “Did you manage to get to talk to Teach yesterday?”

Dimitri was staring at a plate of lukewarm porridge, still full. Claude frowned. “You there your princeliness?” Dimitri didn’t flinch. Claude snapped his fingers in front of the prince’s face. Dimitri nearly jumped out of his seat, but only managed to fall off the bench. Claude felt a few heads turn, but sensed no real interest in the room.

“O-oh. Claude.” Dimitri blinked rapidly, before pulling himself up. “How can I help you?”

“I was wondering how your meeting went,” Claude scratched the back of his neck. “But now I wonder if I should be offering you a hand.”

“No, no. I’m fine.” Dimitri sat back down facing Claude, hands gripping his knees and eyes trained on the floor. “I just have a lot to think about, that’s all.”

“Something about you and Teach, alone together?” Claude gave his knowing smirk.

“No, nothing of your concern. It’s something…private.” Dimitri’s expression and posture did not change. Claude rolled his tongue over his teeth. Dimitri would usually rise to that sort of bait.

“Well, did you manage to talk to her about anything-“

“Von Riegan.” Claude turned. Dedue’s face was stern, as always. “I must ask you not to pry into his Highness’ personal matters.”

Claude held up his hand. “Hey, no worries. But Dimitri and I were talking together the other day about some things we wanted to talk to Professor Eisner about, and-“

“I am aware, Von Riegan.” Dedue’s posture shifted forward just slightly enough for any onlooker to miss. “Nonetheless, his Highness has received some troubling news. I would ask you not pry into the matter.”

“Hey, no worries. I’m just trying to help. Maybe if you let me hear it, I could-“

Dedue’s stare shifted to a glare. “It is a personal matter, Von Riegan.”

Dimitri’s voice had an uncertain warble. “Dedue, you shouldn’t be so forceful, Claude is only trying to help-“

Claude turned back to Dimitri and gave a breezy smile. “Nah, he’s right. If it’s personal, It’s personal. I get that. I’m too nosy for my own good sometimes.” He cocked his head. “I could ask Teach herself about our joint question, perhaps?”

Dimitri stared, before swallowing and nodding back. “Yes…that might be for the best.”

Claude gave a mock salute to both men as he turned away. “Aye aye, your princelyness, little ray of sunshine.” As he walked away, he strained to listen as Dedue approached Dimitri.

“Dedue…”

There was a sigh.

“Not even something this plain stirs your appetite?”

Dimitri squawked a protest, and Claude tuned him out. Whatever Dimitri had spoken to Byleth about had been private, and apparently, Dedue also knew everything.

“Now where to go from here…?” Claude chewed on his lip making his way to Hilda’s table, who was chatting with Marianne and Caspar.

Hilda smiled brightly. “Hey Claude. What are you up to?”

Claude gave a breezy grin of his own. “Eh, not much. What’re you lot doing?”

“We were trying to figure out what the assassins are plotting!” Caspar clenched his fist. “Everyone knows that they can’t really be targeting Lady Rhea. It’s just so obvious!”

“Didn’t you say that Edelgard had to tell you that?” Hilda rested her chin in the palm of her hands as she leaned towards Caspar. He flushed, looking down at the floor.

“Well-yeah, She’s smarter than me, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t obvious!” He turned to Claude. “And didn’t Claude figure that much out for your house? Don’t act so high and mighty!”

Hilda twirled a loose strand of her hair. “Maybe, maybe not. It isn’t that hard to piece together.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Claude. “Can you remember so many days back, dear leader?”

Claude felt himself smirk back. “I can’t say. That talk was so very long-“

“It was three days ago.” Marianne said just loudly enough to be heard.

“A small eternity, just as you say.” Claude nodded as he sat down next to Caspar and across from his two classmates. “I suppose If you and I can’t remember-“ Claude rolled his neck, purposely ignoring a sputtering Caspar. “-We’ll just have to find a way to remind each other of that night.”

Hilda did an admirable job of blocking out a beat-red Marianne. She leaned forward, placing her hand over her heart. “Well, if there is no other way, I suppose we must -“

“Claude figured it out!” Marianne shouted, cradling her head. Hilda pouted.

“Marianne! Spoilers!” Hilda looked at Caspar, who was looking between her and Claude. “We could have teased poor Caspar for five more minutes with that routine!”

“It’s embarrassing…” Marianne murmured.

“Are you guys…” Caspar gaped. “Are you guys engaged or something?”

Claude and Hilda’s smile fell as one.

“…No?”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Oh, well you two are from the most important families in the Alliance. It would be like if Edelgard and Ferdinand went at it. And the only way they’d ever be allowed to flirt so hard is if they were actually getting married.”

Hilda crossed her arms. “That’s not true. I see Dorothea putting the moves on with men all the time, Ferdinand included!”

Caspar shifted. “Well…That’s different. I’ve never had the best grasp on this sort of thing, but, uh…” Caspar fidgeted. “From what I know from my father, It’s different if the woman is a commoner.”

The sound of students chatting around them filled the silence. Marianne studied the ground. Hilda looked like she had tasted something sour.

Claude cleared his throat. “Guess things are different in the empire.” He leaned on the table as he looked at Caspar. “Yeah, no marriage in our future.”

Hilda clasped her hands over her heart and gasped. “Does that mean you’ve just been leading me on, all this time?” She even went to the effort of tearing up. “That all our nights in Lorenz’s room meant nothing to you!”

Claude gave an elaborate and entirely insincere bow. “Alas, my dear, I come from a long line of scoundrels, and I simply couldn’t stop family tradition now.”

“Alright, very funny guys.” Caspar said. “You can cut it out now.”

Hilda’s smile returned to her face without a missing beat. “Aw, you’re such a good sport, Caspar. Figured you’d catch on quick.”

“Saying Lorenz was involved was the tip off.” Caspar paused. “Why do you two say these things anyway?”

“Oh well it’s to cover up my relationship with Marianne.” Hilda said sweetly. Marianne head snapped like a startled bird, her face warring between going white and blushing harder.

“It’s true. Hilda’s always had such a delightful way of using me.” Claude winked at Caspar, who’s face was ripe with shock. “They’ve been at it ever since they arrived at the academy.”

“No way, no way, no way!”

“Way!” Hilda chirped back. “It’s true Marianne is my…” Hilda leaned forward and mock-whispered. “…Best friend. Keep it a secret, okay?”

Caspar’s shoulders collapsed as he sank into his seat. Claude and Hilda shared a smirk. Marianne’s face had settled into a brilliant crimson. “Hilda, please!”

“Sorry, Marianne.” Hilda bowed to her. “Claude’s just too much fun. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Don’t do that...” Marianne mumbled.

Claude gave a small salute. “Yes ma’am.”

“So anyway Claude, have you seen Lysithea?” Hilda turned back to him. “She’s usually down here for breakfast.”

“Maybe she’s just in the library.”

“Nope, Ignatz already checked.”

Claude shrugged. “She’s been coming to class.”

Hilda pouted. “Come on, Leader-man! You’re supposed to be in charge of us Golden Deer!” Hilda’s face shifted to a frown. “Plus, I’m sure it’s an overreaction, but there are supposed to be assassins lurking around…”

Claude nodded. “I don’t think it’s that bad, but I’ll keep an eye out for her.”

After eating, Claude said his goodbyes and made his way towards Byleth’s office. Turning a corner, he saw Edelgard standing numb, back turned to the hallway containing the newest professor’s room. Claude frowned. Edelgard’s eyes were clouded and unfocused, her shoulders slumped, and dark bags under her eyes.

“…Hey, princess?” Claude said. Edelgard didn’t react. Claude bit his lip, and clapped his hands. “Edelgard! Hey! You there?”

Edelgard blinked, and her head slowly turned. “…Claude? When did you get here?”

Claude flashed a smile. “Just a minute ago. Was going to talk to Teach.”

Edelgard blinked.

Claude kept smiling. “Did you just come from her office?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You know, I could say something about you leaving her room in such a sorry state…”

Edelgard blinked again.

Claude hid a frown in a tension breaking cough. “So what are you doing here, anyway? You haven’t been up all night looking for the assassins, have you?”

Still nothing. Claude wondered if Hubert was going to come up from behind and drug him. Glancing over his shoulder, Claude kept talking if only to hide his own nervousness. “You know, I’ve already got a pretty solid guess for where the ne’er-do-wells are going to be. I’ve floated the Idea to Dimitri, and Is was wondering if you and your house would like to join us sleuthing?”

Claude couldn’t say for certain that Edelgard had a hand in the assassination attempt, but given her goals, it could very well be possible. If Edelgard agreed to tag along with him and Dimitri, Claude could get a better read on the would-be conqueror, watch her react in a fight to whatever the assassins were plotting. And it’s not like he wouldn’t have a signal for the dozens of knights if Edelgard tried something really stupid. Lessons he had taken to heart in Almyra’s court years ago.

Claude turned back. Edelgard just kept staring ahead. He doubted she was even looking at him.

“…Edelgard? What do you think? Want to join me?”

Edelgard suddenly walked forward, brushing past Claude as though he wasn’t standing in front of her, muttering in short breaths. “…Nothing…no one understands…no one can…choices….”

Claude watched Edelgard disappear into the monastery, walking like she was heading to the gallows. He imagined that if he stuck his leg out, she would trip, fall to the floor, only to keep trying to walk in an undignified heap.

He wondered how hard Hubert would hit him if he went through with the idea.

Claude shook his head. There would be time for jokes later. Now it was clear that Byleth wasn’t fooling around anymore. She was pushing hard for Edelgard’s redemption and rehabilitation, and Dimitri was…

Well. Suffice to say, Byleth had rendered two heirs mute to his prodding. It was time to see if Claude was going to be able to get something out of his enigmatic professor, or if he was just as hopeless as her other playthings. Claude adjusted his collar, walked to Byleth’s door, and knocked.

Muffled voices echoed back, and after a moment, the door opened halfway. Hanneman stood in front of Claude, blinking.

“Oh, hello Claude,” Hanneman’s mustache twitched. “What are you doing here? I thought you were tending to the Wyverns and Pegasi today.”

“Well, I’m going to, but I had some things to bring up with Teach first.” Claude said. “Also, Hilda hadn’t seen Lysithea this morning. Do you know where she is?” Claude tilted his head. “In fact, what are you doing here, Professor Hanneman?”

Hanneman’s brow furrowed. “Lysithea is fine, we were just going over some advanced magic for the better part of the morning. I am here with Professor Eisner to go over some notes she is uniquely qualified to give answers to, something we are still very much preoccupied with, so I must ask you to attend to your chores...” Hanneman leaned on the door, inching it shut.

Claude leaned just outside the doorframe. “Actually, I also saw Edelgard walk out of here not too long ago. What was that about?”

Hanneman’s eye’s widened, before adding more force to his tone. “Miss Edelgard had a question she wished to discuss with me about some terminology she overheard from Professor Casagranda, and tracked me down.”

“Really? She was pretty out of it.” Claude said with a twinge of worry. “I’m not sure she knew I was there.” He frowned, twisting his head. “Was she like that when you left? Did you say something that set her off?”

Hanneman’s cheeks flushed. “Claude, I know you can read people well enough to know that we discussed-“ Hanneman hissed as he bit his tongue. “You shouldn’t go prying into other people’s private business.”

“Well, gramps says it’s my job, so…” Claude muttered quietly. Hanneman glared. Apparently not quietly enough. “Sorry.”

“If there is nothing else…” Hanneman began to close the door.

“Well, yes actually. I wanted a few minutes with Teach, if she can spare them.”

“Professor Eisner is busy at the moment, if you’d like to come back later-“ The door swung. Claude stuck his foot in the door.

“Look Professor Hanneman, it’ll only be a few minutes, I promise!”

“Claude-“

“No, it’s fine.” Byleth’s voice cut in. “There are only a few notes to go over. I can speak to Claude in the hallway.” The door swung opened swiftly. Claude saw an exasperated expression on Hanneman’s face, and further inside, a desk with several flasks with curious liquids and a mess of notes strewn about. Standing over it was Hubert, clutching various papers and seemed oblivious to the world around him. There was a shadow of another person in the room, but the door had slammed shut, and Byleth was walking down the hall. Claude jogged behind her. They continued on for a minute more, before Byleth turned a corner and entered a small storage room near the end of the hallway, closed off to the outside world.

Byleth stood in front of a wall, silent. Her eyes locked on to Claude’s, and suddenly he felt like a bug staring up at a teenager with issues reaching down to pluck his legs off, one by one. Claude suppressed a gulp.

“Well now,” Claude led off with a small chuckle. “You and Hanneman working together on something? Care to share?”

“No.”

“Aw, come on Teach, don’t be like that.”

Byleth did not blink. Claude could not stop himself from tugging at his collar.

“Alright, I won’t beat around the bush, you seem to be in a particularly bad mood.” Claude said. Byleth did not react. “But I can tell that you’ve shaken Dimitri and Edelgard pretty thoroughly.”

Byleth blinked. Claude was beginning to wonder if she needed to. “Look. You press ganged me into- something. And it’s not like I don’t appreciate you giving me a tip, but I’d like to know where, exactly, this whole mess is going, and what exactly you told the others to make them so downtrodden.”

Byleth regarded him for a moment. “Should I tell your history if someone asks me to?”

“That’s- Ugh.“ Claude grimaced. “Look Teach. I gave Dimitri a bit of a nudge, I admit, but you can be pretty callous. We’d both rather avoid this whole war, but the roundtable is coming in just a month. You’re asking me to go into a meeting that will make or break me with nothing but overheard gossip and spy reports that are, at best, suggestive of an annual recruitment drive in the empire. From the way you’ve been acting, from the way you’ve dealt with Edelgard, from how quickly Dimitri was cowed back into his shell, I can only assume you know everything I could ever want to know. Give me something.”

Claude pressed into a wall, pleading with his eyes. Byleth’s expression did not shift. Claude leaned forward.

“You did a very stupid thing.” Byleth said. “I did tell you that Dimitri was unstable.”

“Yeah, well you just let him kill dozens of his own people, with no forewarning. Don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming. Who’s to say you wouldn’t throw me or anyone else off the ship if it suited you?”

Byleth’s lips twitched. Like she had just smelled something sour. She opened her mouth, before closing it. “I suppose I have been a bit less than helpful.” She eventually said.

“And?” Claude folded his arms over his chest.

“I will say what I told you previously. The lords of the Alliance are not unintelligent, despite evidence to the contrary. Have faith in yourself. You do not need me to succeed.”

Claude leaned back. “Is that all?”

“I will not bring harm to you, your ambitions, or your friends.”

Claude sighed. “Yeah. Thanks, Teach. But why can’t you just tell me everything?”

“Because you don’t need me to do everything for you.” Byleth met his eyes. “Nor do you want me to.”

Claude quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a fact?”

Byleth tilted her head. “Do you really need me to tell you where the assassins will be during the Rite?”

Claude chewed his lip. Byleth took a step back. Claude blinked, before raising his hand. “Hey, wait!” Byleth paused.

“I was wondering if you might chaperone. Seems like everyone in all the classes is gonna be there. Whatever they’re doing in the tomb can’t be good. Want to make sure none of us lose our heads?”

Byleth nodded. “For whatever my word is worth, I promise to keep you all from any lasting harm.”

* * *

**15 th of Blue Sea Moon**

It was a beautiful day in Garreg Mach. The sun shone down on the bright spring grasses. Birdsong echoed in the distance, and there was not a cloud in the sky. Sitting in the academy gardens, Edelgard took a sip from her tea. Her classmates crowded around her, pretending they were not all staring at her. A stone carved gazebo stood in the distance. Nothing was underneath it.

“Edelgard, you seem distant.” Ferdinand broke the silence first. He took a sip before continuing. “Everyone in our class can see you’ve been acting….” Ferdinand coughed into the back of his hand, before smiling. “Just a bit oddly. Perhaps I should take-“

A tremor ran under the table. Dorothea shot him a look, and Ferdinand did his best not to recoil. “What Ferdie means to say, Edie, is that we’re all your friends, and we’d be happy to help if you’re feeling down.”

“It is what friends are being for.” Petra nodded. “Even Professor Manuela is worried for you.”

“Oh yes, definitely. Though if this is about some new power struggle our parents are on, I doubt any of us will be of any use to you.” Linhardt said without looking up from his book.

“Linhardt! Don’t say that!” Bernadetta squealed. “We’ll help Edelgard no matter what! R-right, everyone?”

“Right!” Caspar shouted, before frowning. “But if my father is involved…”

Edelgard took another sip of her tea. The Black Eagles watched the cup rise and fall. Edelgard’s had not moved away. From the empty gazebo. “Wasn’t there something under there?”

“Edelgard?” Petra leaned forward. “Are you lost in your thinking?”

Edelgard did not turn to face the group. “No. Nothing is wrong.”

“Then why are you so quiet? What happened, Edelgard? You can tell us!” Bernadetta fretted with the lace under her cup.

“Nothing happened.” Edelgard kept her eyes locked on the gazebo. The stonework was old. A simple decoration that had lasted centuries.

Ferdinand glanced over to Dorothea. She frowned. “There was something else we wanted to ask you Edie. Do you know where Hubie went? We haven’t seen him all week.”

“Empire business.” Edelgard stood to leave. “I have to go meet Hubert.”

“Edie, please! You say that every time we try to have this talk!”

“Edelgard, von Riegan and Prince Dimitri have both expressed interest in joining forces on the night of the Rite.” Ferdinand stood up from his seat. “I was planning to join them and lead our class-“

“I’ll be at the tomb then.” Edelgard walked away without another word.

Dorothea jumped up. “We should follow her. We’ve got to figure out what’s wrong with Edie!”

“Dorothea,” Ferdinand’s jaw clenched. “I don’t think that is the best idea.”

“Why, so you can lead us around in her stead? I swear, Ferdinand-“

“No, no!” Ferdinand huffed. “It’s just that I’m not sure that will help.” He grimaced. “Plus, if she isn’t bluffing…”

“We should try and find what Edelgard’s sorrow comes from.” Petra muttered. “I am thinking it might be something to do with this month’s danger.”

“And how would we do that?” Linhardt was moving towards the gazebo. “She pushes us away each time we ask. And if this is something bigger, we’re not like Edelgard. We have no real political connections in Enbarr to lean on. No insider to figure out what chaos is spinning through the imperial throne this decade.” His knuckles rapped on the stonework. “Anyone know why she was looking at this?”

The group was silent for a time.

“Hubert.” Ferdinand said suddenly. “Hubert’s still around, somewhere, even if he’s just as absent as Edelgard. Dorothea, maybe you can make him reveal something over tea?”

Dorothea’s eyes widened before lighting up. “Hubert always does think he’s two steps ahead of everyone. I might be able to weasel something out of him.” She smiled. “And if not, you and I can try to double team him.”

Ferdinand sighed and chuckled all at once. “I can only hope you do not have to resort to my help in loosening Hubert’s tongue.” He took a final sip of tea. “But Edelgard is to be emperor. We must try-”

“She’s our friend too!” Bernadetta shouted, “This isn’t for loyalty to the empire. Friends help each other!”

“Yes…” Dorothea sighed. “They do.”

* * *

**20 th of Blue Sea Moon**

Edelgard walked into the greenhouse. She walked past Ashe and Dedue tending to a flowerbed, towards a bench deep in the shadows of the room, hidden under a stone arch and surrounded by colorful foliage. Hubert was slumped into the metal armrest, his eyes closed. Soft snores rumbled as his chest rose and fell. Edelgard regarded him for a moment, before sitting down next.

People walked past the greenhouse as the minutes dripped by. Some quickly, some slowly. All were obscured by the sun flooding through the windows. Hubert stopped and shifted from time to time.

Eventually, the Blue Lions left as twilight fell. Edelgard thought about falling asleep in the garden. She could see why Hubert did. It almost seemed peaceful here.

Hubert gave one final snore before jolting himself awake. He looked around, patting down his own uniform. His eyes fell on the fading sunlight, before jerking to Edelgard.

“Lady Edelgard!” Hubert quickly fell into a bow. “A thousand pardons. I do not know what weakness seized me-“

“There is nothing to forgive, Hubert.” Edelgard sighed. “You’ve run yourself ragged in these short few weeks. You deserve a far longer rest.” Hubert’s mouth opened, but Edelgard silenced him with a narrow eye.

Hubert clicked his tongue. “I understand.” He fixed his posture, sitting upright in the bench. “I have tracked down the medical experts.”

Edelgard swallowed. “And?”

Hubert swallowed. “The professor’s remedies…appear to be legitimate.”

Edelgard looked up at the window in the ceiling. Dusk and twilight were mixing together, creating a dim glow edging its way through the windowpane. “I see.”

Hubert coughed. “I would suggest allowing the Ordelia girl to play lab rat for the concoctions. She seems quite eager.”

Edelgard stared ahead. Hubert continued. “I’ve prodded all of your uncle’s…associates as much as I can without arousing any suspicion. They know nothing.”

Edelgard closed her eyes. “And?”

Hubert sank into his chair. “We have nothing but her notes to play on.” He shifted. “This already seems like fantasy, but…” Hubert’s lip curled. “Lady Edelgard, I must say that this is simply to good to be true. You can’t possibly choose to believe-”

The moment replayed in Edelgard’s mind just as it did every night, unchanged.

* * *

_Byleth held up a glowing liquid in a beaker. Lysithea gasped. “It will restore your lost life. The choice Is yours.” She locked eyes with Edelgard. “Nothing is impossible for me to accomplish.”_

* * *

Edelgard opened her eyes.

“Rest for now Hubert. We will wait and see what is hiding in the tomb.”

Hubert nodded. “And then?”

Edelgard bit her lip. “We will wait and see.”

Edelgard rose from the seat and walked into the growing twilight.

* * *

**21 st of Blue Sea Moon**

Edelgard looked down to the garden. The empty gazebo remained. A memory played, distant and amorphous, but bland enough Edelgard could not tell if it came from one week ago or five years past. A door clicked. Byleth walked out of Hanneman’s office, before shutting the door. She quietly stepped next to Edelgard, looking forward towards the dim horizon.

Edelgard gripped the window frame. Byleth did not react. Edelgard breathed, and turned.

“What is a Nabatean?”

“We are like humans, save for pointed ears, a green coloring, and nigh agelessness.”

Edelgard’s eyes narrowed. “And the ability to turn into monsters?”

Byleth turned to meet her gaze. “No.”

Edelgard’s fingers dug into her palms. “Are you saying Rhea isn’t a beast?”

“That’s a rather loaded phrase.” Byleth hummed.

Edelgard’s fist fell with a quiet thud. “Don’t avoid the question.”

Byleth paused. “Rhea is the only Nabatean who can transform herself.”

“So Thales was right? She is a monster in human clothes?” Edelgard demanded. “She is a beast controlling humans from her throne atop Garreg Mach for centuries.”

Byleth’s tongue clicked. “I again suggest you take that up with Rhea herself at this time.”

Edelgard scoffed, and looked away. “I’ve seen the church lie my entire life. Why should I trust anything she says?”

Byleth sighed. “Honestly, Edelgard, I don’t know how else to tell you that you must separate Thales and the church in your mind. They are not-“

“Honesty?” Edelgard spat. “You want honesty, _professor?_ I’ve spent my entire life surrounding by monsters in human skin. I’ve seen them turn people, my people, into savage beasts that I must put down so they do not slaughter their own kin, and then seen the same human shaped _savages_ spirit everything away like it was just a gust of wind knocking down a stone foundation. I was forced to watch, helpless and powerless as other worms in human skin forced their incompetence onto good people, all to line their own pockets.” Edelgard exhaled. “I see the church spiriting away any problem they find deep underground, so they never have to look at the problem. I hear rumors of them making books disappear. People disappear. And now you ask me to beseech their leader, a monster only pretending to be human, for answers?” Edelgard snarled as she turned away. “I’ve heard tales too good to be true. Every day, my uncle would tell me I might one day see my siblings again. And now you ask me to trust Rhea. Because she is your blood?”

The minutes passed by. Edelgard watched students mill about the dormitories. Knights patrol the guard posts. Byleth was silent, until she finally murmured.

“Because she is my blood…”

Edelgard watched lanterns blink in the distant market. “Are you denying it?”

“I was human, once.”

Edelgard looked back to Byleth. “But you’re not anymore.”

Byleth did not blink. “No.”

“Being human isn’t something you can choose. You can’t change species like clothes or allegiances.”

“I agree.” Byleth said. “It took quite a bit of effort to become a full Nabatean. Years of growing stronger, pooling my magic. Now, whenever I return to Remire, My eyes and hair change from their dark blue color. My ears elongate.” Byleth looked up at the sky. “It’s a small mystery in a far grander one. Not just knowledge, but power follows me wherever I go.”

Edelgard’s brow narrowed. “Are you bragging now?”

Byleth turned back to face her. “But even despite that, If I ever chose to, I could become human again.”

Edelgard blinked, then scowled. “I suppose you would. After all, who would want such a frail, human body when you can simply choose to live for uncounted centuries?”

“But that’s just the thing, Edelgard.” Byleth said. “Even as a human rejecting my Nabatean heritage, I have no difficulty living for millennia.”

Edelgard rolled her eyes. “With time travel, of course.”

“No, not at all.”

Edelgard exhaled. “How, then?”

Byleth pulled a small flask from her belt, holding it against her almost glowing, mint colored eyes. “These are not the only potions you have accepted from me.”

Edelgard eyes darted down to the gazebo. For a fraction of a second, she saw a flash of bright green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to [Dox](https://paradoxsage.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!
> 
> Writing for a cast as expansive as any Fire Emblem game can get pretty hard without the gameplay mechanics and pacing too back it up. Still, I’d like to think it’s worth the wait.


	17. Wrath Strike

A sea of flickering lights paraded through Garreg Mach as the clergy prepared for the Rite of Rebirth. Edelgard watched through an orange stained window as candles and torches flickered up and down the passageways, hymns echoing across the halls and into the deep corridors.

Seteth hummed, and Edelgard turned to look at him. The Archbishop’s right hand wore the same carefully tailored robes as he always did, but a nervous energy trickled off him.

“Princess Edelgard.” Seteth said calmly. “I see you and your class have joined the Blue Lions and Golden Deer tonight?”

Edelgard looked over his shoulder. Her classmates whispered and giggled amongst themselves. Linhardt was doing his best to nap through Sylvain’s flirtations with Petra. Ferdinand and Lorenz were chatting about tea. Caspar was arm wrestling Raphael.

“Yes. Professor Eisner offered to oversee our joint rounds.” Edelgard said blandly. Byleth was standing next to Dedue, talking about flowers.

“Yes, she told me as much.” Seteth coughed and bit back a sigh.

Edelgard’s eyebrow rose. “You disapprove of Professor Eisner?”

“Hm? Oh, no not that.” Seteth shook his head. “It’s- well. Let us call it a simple clash of personality. Nonetheless, she has my full confidence in this matter.”

”You think we are wrong to suspect an attempt on the tomb?” Edelgard wondered how much she could get out of the man.

Seteth’s brow twitched. “It’s- well.” He crossed his arms and gave a _harrumph._ “It’s just a bit too obvious, I would think. And while the Holy Mausoleum is important to the church, I would say that there is no clear target for anyone to steal inside the hall.” He glanced towards Byleth, who had trotted towards them.

“The three houses deduced the location on their own.” Byleth shrugged. “I just agreed to chaperone.”

A strangled sigh made it past Seteth’s lips. “I’m sure. In any case Professor Eisner, I will expect you to sound the alarm if anything is amiss. You alone cannot protect nearly two dozen students.”

“Catherine is closest, correct?”

“Yes, she is!” Flayn appeared from behind Seteth’s back. “But I’m sure you’ll be able to defeat anyone before she arrives, Professor Byleth!”

“Flayn, do not encourage her.” Seteth growled.

“But brother, you heard the tales from the canyon just as I have! I hear people saying that even Charon could not perform such a-“

“Flayn!” Seteth shouted. “That is quite enough!” He glared at Byleth. “The professor has more than enough…fuel for her ego. You need not provide more.”

“Yes, _brother._ ” Flayn giggled, before her eyes widened and sparkled. “Professor, may I join you tonight?”

“Absolutely not!” Seteth squawked.

“But I am certain she would protect me from any harm-“

“No Flayn, you will be staying with Lady Rhea and I for the entirety of the night!”

“it’s alright, Flayn.” Byleth spoke up. “Stay with Seteth tonight.” Flayn pouted. Byleth’s eyes gleamed in the evening shadows. “You can join the classes next month.”

“What!” Seteth stomped his foot. “I- she- but-“

“I would be delighted to join my peers in learning!” Flayn beamed innocently. “Brother, you did mention letting change my usual routine under supervision. Surely this would count, no? Learning alongside the students, safe in Garreg Mach’s halls-“

At those words, a hiss emerged atop all the other strangled sounds hitched in Seteth’s throat. His glare snapped back to Byleth. “We will discuss this later, Flayn.” He breathed in, and recomposed himself. “In any case. I pray you protect all the students tonight, Professor Eisner.” Seteth glared at Byleth for a moment more. She did not react. Seteth swore under his breath, sighed, and turned to Edelgard. “At any point, do not be afraid to raise the alarm. A good night to you, princess.”

Seteth turned and left. Flayn grinned up at Byleth. The two shared a nod, before Flayn turned to Edelgard and curtsied. “Good night Princess Edelgard! I shall hope to speak with you more in the coming months!” Flayn turned and left, leaving only one Nabatean amongst a throng of Humans. Byleth’s face remained blank. Claude appeared from behind a column, an innocent smile on his face. He gave Edelgard a mock salute, before turning towards their classmates.

“Hi everybody!” Claude’s voice carried through the room, loud but cheerfully.

“Hi Leader-man!” Hilda and Raphael shouted back.

“Tonight’s the night we’ve all come together to see if the assassins are going to be paying the Holy Mausoleum a visit.” Claude gestured to Byleth. “Teach has offered to make sure we all don’t die. Thanks professor!” Byleth nodded back. Claude chuckled. “So that means anything she says goes. And if things do turn bad, we’ve got a back-up plan. The knights are close by, so just be sure to scream loudly and not die before they come to save us.”

A few good-natured laughs rose up from the group. Claude continued. “Don’t be scared to do it. Teach will be the first to sound off if we get in a truly sticky situation, she told me herself.”

A ghost of movement played on Byleth’s lips. Her lips did not move, but sounded a murmur that Edelgard could hear, if just barely over the hushed whispers and Claude’s projecting.

_“…Work to make me scream…”_

Edelgard found herself stumbling to the floor, tripping without walking, cheeks burning. When she looked up, everyone was staring at her, confusion on the faces of the Golden Deer and Blue Lions, and worry caking the Black Eagles. Claude had turned back, a perplexed crease on his brow.

“You alright princess? What happened?”

Edelgard pushed herself back up. “Nothing. I just-“ Edelgard dared to look at Byleth. The Nabatean’s mouth hung open fractionally, her cheeks glowing against the candlelight, with a slight tremor in her eyes. It was a look Edelgard had seen in court before, on dukes and counts who had extended their reach too far even under the emperor’s much-diminished powers, desperately hiding their panic under strict protocol training. It were as though Byleth was just realizing that she had spoken aloud her deepest-

Edelgard shook her head as she dusted off her pants. This was ridiculous. She must have misheard. “Nothing. I was overthinking some detail.” She hoped.

“Okay…” Claude bit his cheek before turning back to the group. “In any case, we’ve got to stick together for this. Keep close, and remember that we’re all here to help each other. Trying to hog glory is only good for getting you killed, or worse, in the sick bay without a broken jaw.” Claude looked away from Lorenz and towards Dimitri as a scoff ripped through the air. “That’s everything I wanted to say. You got anything to add, your princelyness?”

Dimitri was gripping his lance tightly, staring off into empty air. “…No. No, I have nothing to add.”

Claude leaned his head back to Edelgard. “And her imperial highness?”

Edelgard rolled her eyes. “Dimitri and I are of the same mind.”

Claude shrugged. “Any last words teach?”

“Be quiet when we move into the tomb.” Byleth said. “The element of surprise is vital. Just because we are in a large group does not mean we are impervious.”

A chorus of affirmatives rang out, and everyone began their final preparations. Byleth turned to Edelgard. “What was your fall about?”

“What- nothing.” Edelgard inspected her axe. It was a fine steel weapon. The edge was a bit dull, but more than acceptable for this mission. “It was nothing.”

Byleth cocked her head. “Are you growing sick? Symptoms of your-“ Byleth waved her hand. “Don’t show themselves until much later.”

Edelgard sucked in a breath. “No, not that. I just- If you must know, I heard you say-“ She returned Byleth’s hand gesture. “And it caught me off guard. That’s all.”

Byleth blinked. “I didn’t say anything.”

Edelgard huffed. “If you’re willing to keep a secret, I am more than happy to join you-“

Byleth’s eyebrow rose. “Edelgard. I didn’t say anything.”

“But…” Edelgard winced. “But then why did you look so concerned when I fell?”

Byleth tilted her head. “Because a student collapsing is worth concern.”

Edelgard’s lip thinned. “I see. Thank you for your professionalism. All I can say is that my imagination has been…” She did not blush. “Overactive, these past few weeks.”

Byleth gave Edelgard one last look, before moving to look over Ashe and Petra’s bowstringing. Edelgard turned back to the window, feeling her eyes drawn to the gardens. They were barely visible from the window, hidden behind sea-green stained glass. Edelgard stared out for a moment more before turning away. Her axe needed sharpening.

* * *

 _“Stupid, foolish boy. You let the Riegan mongrel take command of the entire party. What king allows others to dictate what his subjects should do?”_ Lambert hissed from the window where Dimitri’s reflection should have been. Dimitri turned away, descending the spiral staircase down towards the Holy Mausoleum. The Black Eagles descended first, their shadows swirling down the walls, flickering along with the candles they held. As Dimitri walked, the candlelight twisted and melded together, forming a woman’s shape that came apart and then together with each step Dimitri and the other students took.

 _“You cannot ignore us forever, failure. You have hidden from your duty for years now. All that stands in your way is a woman you allow to remain silence.”_ Patricia’s mouth could not be seen in the growing darkness, but its sneer cut all the same. _“This is the boy I raised? You allow this witch to dictate the terms of our revenge?”_ She scoffed as Cornelia did when no one was looking. _“You truly are worthless. Take the answers from her. Force them out of her lying, scheming, quivering little—”_

“Dimitri?” Byleth’s voice echoed quietly behind him. Dimitri blinked, and the mass of shadows was just that.

“Your Highness?” Dimitri turned back to see Dedue and Byleth standing shoulder to shoulder. Byleth’s green eyes nearly shone through the dim candlelight, while Dedue’s silver hair seemed to absorb the small warmth of the candlelight dancing around the staircase.

Dimitri smiled. “It’s nothing. I’m just a bit worried.”

Byleth exhaled. “Dimitri, no matter what they say, your ghosts cannot harm you.”

“How did you-“ Dimitri bit his lip. “…Ah. Your gift.” Byleth gave a small nod. “They warn me against…trusting you.”

Byleth hummed. “I can only hope my actions are enough to put your mind at ease.”

“Yes, we can only hope.” Dimitri sighed. He turned back to the staircase, and took another step down. Dedue moved quickly, standing next to him.

“Are your hauntings as bad as…?”

The first few months after the tragedy had been cruel. “They are growing louder.” Dimitri said softly.

Dedue dipped his head. “I shall ask the god of dreams for a boon when I next travel to the Abyss’s altar.”

“I am honored. You have my thanks.” A dozen voices hissed around Dimitri each speaking a single word.

_“Heretic.”_

Dimitri reached the bottom of the staircase. The room widened, allowing the students the break from their nearly single file formation. Dim light flashed across the student’s faces, but Dimitri could see Byleth clearly. She stood tall and walked with purpose. Each step she took rang louder in his ears, widening the distance between them.

Dimitri looked down. He had not been moving. He raised his foot to take another step.

_“Do not walk in her shadow, brat!”_

_“You are to be king. She is a mercenary. Lead her, even if you must wring her hair and drag the wench across your own footsteps.”_

_“Harpoon the bitch. Her back is turned. She’ll never see it coming. Then shackle her and force her to lead you to our revenge!”_

Dimitri squeezed his eyes shut a breathed. Voices rushed around him whispering and shouting and screaming all at once. Dimitri gripped his spear, breathing in. Breathing out. The voices began to fade. Dimitri opened his eyes.

Glenn stared back; mouth contorted into a silent howl. His eyes burnt like the fires on _that_ day. He opened his mouth to scream-

Dedue’s hand fell on Dimitri’s shoulder, firm but calm. Dimitri looked to his retainer. Dedue wore a subtle frown and a worried air. Dimitri forced a smile.

“It’s nothing Dedue. I’m fine.”

Dedue sighed, but retreated. Dedue seemed ready to say something, before looking ahead and glowering.

“Really? How are you this oblivious, Boar?”

Dimitri turned. Felix stood where he had seen Glenn, glaring daggers. “What your lapdog sees in you mystifies me.”

Dimitri frowned. “Felix, do not hate Dedue because of me. He has done nothing to you.”

Felix shot a look over Dimitri’s shoulder and snorted. “What’s wrong with you anyway? You’ve been on edge for nearly a month now.” His eyes narrowed. “I haven’t seen you this bad in two years. I thought you learned how to act human again.”

“It’s…slaying Lonato’s men was…” Dimitri bit his tongue. Felix rolled his eyes.

“Don’t go telling me you have feelings now, boar. I’ve seen you slaughter your people more than once. I know how much you really care about rebels.”

Dimitri breathed in. “I remember my cruelty those years ago. It was…”

“ _Just. What the traitors deserved. Kingly.”_

“And then I said something…” Dimitri muttered. Dedue remained stoic as always.

_“Him, His people. They are pawns. Pawns to slaughter us. They are worth no sympathy.”_

Dimitri exhaled. “Something I never should have. It made me realize that my faults might be…” The candlelight glowed too bright. Dimitri rubbed his eyes. “Dedue has-“ A sigh left him. “I’m trying to be better.”

“How noble of you.” Felix turned to leave.

“Felix.” Dimitri loosened his grip on his spear. “If you truly think I will act barbarically, I can only hope that you will try to stop me.”

Felix stopped walking. He seemed to rotate back, his pale face a mix of surprise and suspicion. Dedue stepped forward, placing his hand on the shield strapped to his back. “I have sworn to protect his Highness from enemies without, and within himself.” Dedue snorted. “Do not let your scorn blind you, Fraldarius.”

Felix didn’t say anything. He did not turn to leave. His orange eyes flickered along with the candlelight, but did not waiver. Dimitri wanted to look away, to break the sudden stare, but felt a duty to match Felix.

A harsh whisper broke the tension. “Hey, guys. You’re lagging behind.” Dimitri looked up to see Sylvain, spear in one hand and fire magic in the other. “Not a good place to get lost in each other’s eyes.”

Felix spun around and stalked away, bumping past Sylvain.

“Ow.” Sylvain juggled spear and magic to rub his shoulder. “Guess he’s in one of his moods.” He flashed a grin at Dimitri. “Don’t let him rub off on you, your Highness.”

Dimitri sighed, before marching ahead.

The students had quietly gathered in front of a large stone door. Light crept from underneath the frame, and hushed whispers wafted through the air. Claude was on the floor, ear held to the ground.

“At least fifty. Maybe more.” Claude stood up, pulling an arrow out his quiver, and began twirl it in his hand. “And from the heavy metal footsteps, I don’t think they’re a bunch of pilgrims who took a wrong turn.” He flashed a grin. “Well Teach, how do you want this done?”

“Spears in front. Archers and mages in back. Everyone else will help wherever they are needed. I’ll ask if they want to surrender before we strike.” Byleth walked forward, putting her hand on the door. “I’ve been told there are protective wards on certain parts of the floor. Controlling that territory is paramount.”

“Um, excuse me professor,” A nervous Ignatz asked. “But shouldn’t we wait for help?”

“Help will arrive soon enough. It’s dangerous to split up now, and the noise we are about to make should attract Catherine.” Byleth drew her sword. “Until then, simply keep each other safe. Form up, and remember your training.”

Dimitri gripped his spear tightly as he marched forward. Taking position next to Ferdinand and Ingrid. He breathed in. a dull hiss echoed in his ears. Byleth looked over to him with a questioning look. Dimitri bit his lip, and nodded. Byleth’s hand rose in the air, three fingers up. Each fell with a dreadful weight, falling like a bell tolled. The door crashed open, and Dimitri rushed in behind Byleth.

The Mausoleum was lit brightly, torches and magic bouncing off sternly cut stone, painting the room in a mix of dull orange and warm yellow light. Thick columns were placed beside small chests and coffins, each sparsely decorated with emblems of the Seiros faith. Across the floor were strange patterns and stonework, each with an odd shimmering air about them - the protective enchantments Byleth mentioned, no doubt. At the room’s head lay Saint Seiros’ casket, resting on an elevated platform, surrounded by an amphitheater-like semi-circle. It was simple, honest and clear architecture that Dimitri had seen in centuries-old ruins and the oldest cathedrals in Faerghus. A humble, plain style that did not concern itself with dazzling anyone. Beautiful in its own quiet way.

And scattered throughout the room like weeds were dozens of mages, soldiers and priests adorned in the colors of the Western Church. One stood next to Saint Serios’ casket, weaving magic against the stone.

“Intruders!” A priest called out. “They will disrupt the plan!”

“You trespass on holy ground.” Byleth shouted back. “Surrender now, and you will be shown mercy-“

A fireball flew past her head. “Kill them! They must not stop us! For the Goddess!” More churchmen readied their weapons. Their mages prepared for a volley. Dimitri wet his lips. His pulse thundered in his ears, and whispers clouded his mind.

_“Traitors.”_

_“Kill kill kill kill kill kill-“_

_“Well boy? Will you allow your subjects to raise arms against you?”_

Dimitri roared, charging ahead. Byleth was already moving, cutting through a careless mage. Dimitri followed her example, crashed into a swordsman, his shaft bashing into the man’s head, instantly sending him crashing into the ground. Two men with axes moved to rush him, and Dimitri responded with his own charge forward. The two men spread apart from each other, moving to flank. An arrow flew from behind Dimitri, piercing the shoulder of the man on his right, and the churchman cried out. His fellow churchman hesitated. Dimitri seized his opportunity, and gored the first man through his heart, and then swinging his spear to bash the other man with his fellow’s corpse. Without hesitation, Dimitri raised the impaled body in front of him, and charged a mage hiding behind a pillar. The man panicked, firing spells directly at Dimitri, only for the corpse to absorb the attacks. Dimitri gored the mage through the throat, and then discarded his makeshift shield, taking cover behind the pillar to find his next target.

The melee had spread throughout the mausoleum, a cacophony of metal and magic erupting through and out the chamber. Byleth had been correct to say that Catherine would have no trouble hearing this battle. The other students with lances had all made contact with the enemy, viciously fighting. Leonie was dueling against a swordsman in brutal close combat, and Ingrid was keeping a mage at arm’s length. The magic wielding students were matching the churchmen’s own barrage, Annette and Dorothea assaulting them with a combination of wind and thunder magic, While Hubert and Lysithea used their dark spells to tear through mages and archers alike. Ashe and Bernadetta laid down a suppressive volley of arrows, preventing any of the churchmen from advancing while Caspar, Ignatz and Petra charged at the churchmen’s own backlines, intent on silencing their archers. Bulkier students like Hilda, Dedue and Ferdinand kept any churchmen from advancing on their own vulnerable mages, and Mercedes, Linhardt, and Marianne rapidly cast healing spells to keep any wounds from becoming permanent.

Then there were the students using their Crests aggressively, as Dimitri did. Sylvain’s spear shot forth, any armor its tip touched first fracturing like cracks in the earth, then crumbling apart with a second touch. Felix’s arms coursed with Crest magic, infusing his limbs with a denseness Dimitri was all too familiar with, causing each sword stroke to strike heavier than it should and allowing Felix to easily slay each enemy Sylvain had weakened. Edelgard stormed ahead, her great strength breaking through any defense in her way.

And then there was Byleth. She moved with unnatural speed, closing the distance between her and the churchmen faster then Dimitri had. Each sword stroke landed fatally, without any wasted movement. Her opponents had not even hit the ground before she was halfway to her next target.

“Dimitri!” A harsh whisper from behind jolted Dimitri from his trance. It was Edelgard.

 _“How are you this oblivious, brat?”_ Glenn’s voice hissed. _“What if that had been an enemy?”_

“Edelgard. How are you faring?” Dimitri peered out from his hiding place.

“Well enough. The battle is going well.” Edelgard pointed to their left. “I thought we might advance down that side together.”

Dimitri looked to where she pointed. It was deserted, save for a few archers hiding behind caskets. “Clear them out and then flank their main force from behind? A bold strategy for just the two of us.”

“I agree.” Hubert appeared from behind Edelgard, hand thrumming with dark magic. “Lady Edelgard, allow me to escort you.”

“Hey, don’t forget me!” Lysithea had rolled across the floor, panting and out of breath. She locked eyes with Edelgard. “People like us- I mean-“ She looked away. “We should stick together!”

“Well…”

_“Cowardcowardcowardcowardcowardcoward-“_

”Four of us seems enough. The bulk of their force is distracted.” Dimitri stood up, and rushed down the wall to the next set of pillars, watching the archers hiding on the far side. None of them had noticed him yet over the chaos, their heads and arrowheads pointed towards Byleth, who was steadily advancing. Dimitri arrived behind the first pillar, with Hubert quickly coming up behind him. Lysithea and Edelgard lagged behind, a stray fireball whizzing overhead slowing their advance. Dimitri peaked out again, looking for his next dash-

And sharp shriek crashed through the air. Dimitri pulled back behind the pillar, but it was to late. A cry escaped Dimitri’s lips as an arrow buried itself in his shoulder, cutting just under his cape’s brooch. Hubert was already on the other side of the pillar, a dark power humming in his hand. “Where is he?”

Dimitri sucked in a breath. There wasn’t too much blood, but the wound stung badly. “One pillar ahead of us. Behind the gravestone.”

Hubert pulled out a small hand mirror, holding it near the column’s edge. After a moment, he darted out, and another scream joined the chorus. Slinking back into position, Hubert eyes darted around the room, searching for Edelgard. She and Lysithea had managed to advance to the pillar opposite to them.

Dimitri let out another hiss, his hand grasping around the arrow’s shaft. “Hubert, can you heal me?”

Hubert turned and frowned. “Faith magic has always escaped me.”

Dimitri grunted, and prepared to break off the arrow’s shaft, before a dull warmth sprung up in his arm. Looking up, he saw Mercedes hiding behind a casket, her hands glowing with white magic. Dimitri nodded his thanks, before gritting his teeth and pulling the arrow out of his shoulder in a single motion. The wound closed quickly, with barely a drop of blood escaping.

A crash of glass sounded, and Dimitri looked over to see Hubert swearing, holding the remains of his hand mirror.

“Our quarry?” Dimitri massaged his shoulder, finding no permanent damage.

“Aware of us, and all trained on our position.” Hubert reported dryly.

Dimitri sniffed. He looked at Mercedes, who grimaced, but nodded back. “Edelgard!”

“What!” Edelgard ducked away and back again from her hiding place, throwing a small hand axe.

“Mercedes is behind us. I’m going to charge, and draw fire.” Hubert and Lysithea were good shots. Dimitri himself was quick enough on his feet. He could endure any pain.

Edelgard looked back at him. Her eyes hardened. “I’ll join you. On a count of three, we charge their position.”

Dimitri nodded back as Hubert scowled at her declaration. “One.”

Edelgard gripped her axe tightly. Dimitri muttered a prayer. “Two.”

“Three!” Claude’s voice rang out from above, and the shriek of an arrow sounded. Dimitri did not allow himself a moment for surprise, and charged out. One archer lay dead, an arrow stuck in his skull. Another was clutching his wounded leg. Five more remained, each split between Dimitri, Edelgard, and the mages hiding behind the pillars. Short work was made of them all. The now six-person group regrouped at the now vacant far wall of the Mausoleum.

“Claude, how did you fire from above?” Dimitri asked as the group huddled near a stone coffin.

Claude grinned back. “There are grooves in the pillars. I’ve got a decent grip, and my Crest has the nice side benefit of making me great at jumping. It’s murder on my hands, but better they smart than any vital organs.” Claude paused as a light enveloped his fingers, and looked back. “Oh, thanks Mercedes.”

She grinned, sweat on falling from her brow as magic sigils faded. “It’s what I’m here for. No trouble at all.”

“Is anyone else hurt?” Lysithea asked. Everyone shook their heads. “Then let’s hit these brutes from behind! Just a bit more, and they’ll have to give up!”

Edelgard’s brow creased and she shot a look at Hubert. He scowled back.

“Is something wrong? Dimitri asked. The two Adrestians looked up.

“Yeah, you two know something we don’t?” Claude said as he spun an arrow in his hand.

Edelgard shook her head. “It’s- It’s nothing. Just a feeling. This just seems…too easy.”

Claude’s eyebrow quirked. “Really? I know teach has been picking up a lot of the slack- “ A scream rang out. No one Dimitri knew. “-And our own Crest make thing easy, but these guys are decently tough.”

Edelgard gave a frustrated sigh. “It’s not that. It’s just a feeling.”

“Enough. We have a battle to win.” Dimitri said, eyeing a mage with his back turned to their group. “We can question our good fortune later. Mercedes, Hubert, Lysithea, are you prepared?”

Hubert rolled his eyes. “Please, Blaiddyd.”

Mercedes nodded. “I am. Let’s not get overconfident now.”

Lysithea fought off a pant. “I’m not done yet.”

Dimitri took another breath, and then dashed ahead. The mage barely had time to react to the crash of his footfall before he smashed them in the head. Edelgard cut down a priest in a single stroke. A swordsman fell to a quick arrow and blast of magic Across the distance, Dimitri could see Byleth advancing on Saint Serios’ casket. The rest of the students were embroiled in the fight across the room, atop some of the protective wards- it seems reinforcements from the western church had arrived sooner than their own, but only a few scattered enemies remained. A desperate cry rang out, and Dimitri spun in place, catching the gleam of fire in a mage’s hand. Without hesitation, Dimitri’s lance flew through the air, impaling the mage and pinning him to the wall, the fire in his hand dying out with its wielder.

“I think we’ve cleared out this area!” Claude shouted as he pulled out an arrow from a corpse. “Teach seems the have the mages up on that platform well in hand. Let’s go help finish up the rest of the class.”

“Yes, let’s go help our…” Mercedes trailed off, eye widening.

“What’s wrong?” Dimitri followed her eyes to where he had thrown his spear. A ringing, metallic echo cracked across the stone floor, a dark figure stepped out of the shadows. He rode a horse covered in black armor, it’s hooves falling with a dark grace. The rider, wrapped in black steel and cloth, wore a gruesome, skull shaped mask. In his hand was a scythe, as long as a man was tall.

“The Death Knight.” Dimitri breathed.

The Death Knight glanced at the impaled body, and then reached down, ripping the lance out. **“These vermin lasted longer than I expected.** ” The rider threw the pike, and Dimitri’s lance landed at his feet. The Death Knight’s stare bore down on him like an eagle spotting a mouse. **“You will have to do for a warmup, prince.** ”

Dimitri hastily picked up his weapon. “What are you doing here? Have you thrown your lot in with these villains?”

Horse and rider shared a snort. “ **I came for a fight worth my time.** ”

“Very well.” Edelgard stepped forward, brandishing her axe. “It seems we have no choice but to fight.”

“Well, this makes things interesting.” Claude began to move away from the group, an arrow lazily knocked in his bow. “I heard you were tough enough to take down a demonic beast all on your own. Let’s see how well you do in six on one odds.”

Lysithea barked out a lough. “This will be easy. I’ve got just the spell to make you disappear.”

Hubert blinked. “You couldn’t have already mastered Luna. It’s far too advanced for someone your age.”

“I am not a child, you’re barely older than me!” Lysithea shouted back. “And besides, I’ll have you know I mastered Luna weeks ago!”

Mercedes remained silent, magic flowing about her fingers.

Dimitri raised his lance. A horse, no matter how well trained, would halt at a pike. All he needed to do was not lose his nerve, and the day would be theirs. “Come then, if you dare.”

The Death Knight’s gaze flickered between the six of them, sparing no more than a second on each glance. “ **This may be some fun yet.** ” He snapped the reins, and his steed began to trot. Dimitri kept his spear level. There was still some distance between them and the Death Knight. There was plenty of time for the knight to try something.

Lysithea scoffed. “I don’t have time for this!” A dozen dark purple shards flickered into existence, looming over the Death Knight. As one, the shards locked on to their target, before crashing downwards. Dimitri thrusted forward with his lance, intent to remove all avenues of escape. An arrow flew overhead, sailing towards The horse’s eyes. A wave of miasma conjured itself around the Death Knight’s flank, rolling towards their target with a deceptive slowness. The shards continued their descent, falling towards the horse’s legs. It would be less than a second until they impacted-

The Death Knight flicked his reins, and his steed exploded into the air, nearly touching the ceiling. A moment later, the magic shards impacted the ground, exploding outwards in a blast that would envelop three horses. The Death Knight landed in the center of their formation, unharmed and without a spot of dust covering his armor. Dimitri lunged forward and Edelgard swung her axe down, but the Death Knight was already in motion. His steed burst forth, easily escaping their weapon’s reach and charged Lysithea. The girl stumbled backward and tried to conjure a spell, but the Death Knight was faster. Reaching down from his saddle, the rider picked Lysithea off the ground by her neck, raised her high, and smashed her forehead against his own. Then with a flick of his wrist, the knight flung the girl at Hubert. Lysithea impacted his head with the back of her spine, sending the Adrestian tumbling down to the ground.

Dimitri felt his hands numb. He barely head Mercedes scream as she rushed to the two fallen students. The Death Knight, making no move to stop her, turned back to face Dimitri. The knight stretched his arm, swinging his great scythe through the air in a few practiced motions. Then in an instant, he charged, weapon raised high.

Dimitri lost his nerve first, and rolled out of the knight’s way instead of attempting to pike him. This was not a battle he could win with conventional tactics. Edelgard followed his example, running behind a column. Dimitri stood up, blood and screaming pounding in his ear.

_“Stupid, useless boy! If you cannot defeat this rouge, how can you hope to avenge us?”_

_“Use your Crest, Dimitri. Force a contest of strength. You should be able to manage that, if nothing else.”_

_“Coward! Strike him! Never retreat!”_

Dimitri grunted as he shook his head. The Death Knight had halted, content to stare down atop his steed. Dimitri gritted his teeth. He had to stay in control. He could not allow himself to grow blind in anger. He needed to-

“ **Is this all you are capable of, Prince of Faerghus?”** A guttural laugh echoed out The Death Knight. **“Does your blade only slay vermin barely capable of holding their own swords?”** The skull mask seemed to sneer. **“Or can you only kill your countrymen? You seemed so practiced fighting Gaspard.”**

The last shrieks of battle sounded across the room. Magic crashed into the walls. Edelgard shouted from her place. Dimitri could only hear his mother whisper.

_“Kill him.”_

Dimitri was at his feet, sieging the Death Knight in an instant, lance strikes raining up at the rider with the force to shatter stone. The Death Knight held his ground, ceding ground inch by inch. Some blows the Knight parried away with his lance, others he made his steed jump or dodge. Dimitri did not let up, continuing his relentless assault.

In between a thrust the Death Knight parried, Edelgard shot forward, bringing her axe down at the horse’s feet, causing it to reel upward in a panic. Above and behind the knight, Claude had jumped up with a short sword, on trajectory to plunge the blade into the Knight’s shoulder. Dimitri seized his opportunity, thrusting his lance forward and under the horse’s belly, spear tip aimed straight at stallion’s heart. In that moment, Dimitri saw victory within his reach.

In the next, his delusion shattered. Without ever breaking eye contact with him, The Death Knight swung his scythe down under his mount, hooking Dimitri’s lance away. At the same time he reached up with his other hand, grabbed Claude by the wrist, and swung down, clubbing Edelgard with the Alliance heir. Dimitri tried to push his lance back, summoning his Crest given strength to break through the Death Knight’s grip. The Death Knight held his ground, putting both his hands behind his scythe, and Dimitri pushed harder. He could see the horse’s hooves grinding against the stone floor. He could feel himself winning. But then there was a terrible creak in the shaft of the weapon. The Knight flicked his wrist, and Dimitri’s lance shattered apart.

Dimitri stared up at the Death Knight, broken fragments slipping through his fingers. Beside him, Claude and Edelgard groaned as they rushed to untangle themselves. A sea of ghosts howled around him.

_“Weakling! Worthless, useless weakling!”_

_“The house of Blaiddyd, ended here…”_

_“Worthless.”_

**“Pathetic.”** The Death Knight gave a snort, raising his scythe high in one dreadfully long moment. Dimitri tried to run, to roll out of the way, but his legs would not respond. The world was fading, Shadows began to rush together and twist. What once was clear now seemed to be a crafted mosaic. Dimitri blinked again, and all he could see a burning field full of corpses, their twisted faces searing into his memory. A blade hovered above him.

His father lay prostrated atop a pile of dead, bleeding and broken. _“Avenge us! Those who killed us…Tear them apart! Destroy them all!”_

Dimitri could not move. The hovering blade fell, creeping slowly downwards. The dead’s hands grasped at his feet, begging for justice and mercy and blood. Dimitri could only sink lower, falling to his hands and knees. The dead grasped at more of him, reaching farther and farther and his father- his father’s face was covered in blood and hate. Dimitri wondered if his father had ever worn an expression different than his death mask.

The blade was at his neck, and Dimitri could hear voices. A man and a woman’s voice. It sounded Like Dedue. Dimitri didn’t recall him ever being here. The woman’s voice sounded more distant. Like someone he knew once. Dimitri wondered if he should call back. It was all for naught though. The blade had drawn blood. Soon it would bite through his neck, and all would be as it should.

But the blade did not fall, recoiling back at the taste of blood. Dimitri looked up. A burning golden power crashed into the blade, and Dimitri was blinded, falling numb. He felt himself be pulled away from the sea of corpses by someone, his ears ringing with the moans of the dead. Another burst of light exploded, and then there was only ringing.

“ _…Mitr…”_

_“…Ignes…”_

_“…Mitri…”_

There was something breaking through the thrumming. Voices. Distant, but growing closer. Dimitri opened his eyes, and tried to blink away a white void. The world was coming into focus, the warm burning echoing off proud stone.

That was right. Dimitri was in the Holy Mausoleum. He had come with his friends and classmates. Someone was shaking his shoulders.

“…Mitri! Dimitri! Answer me!” Edelgard’s voice was fading in and out. Perhaps she was shaking him.

“Your Highness!” That was Dedue, Dimitri was almost certain. “Mercedes!”

“I-I don’t-“

Dimitri lurched up. The room was coming into focus. Dedue knelt next to Dimitri, holding his shield up to protect from any stray arrows. Mercedes was quietly panicking, hands alight with magic. Edelgard loomed over him from behind. Her axe lay discarded on the ground beside her. “What the hell happened to you?” She demanded. “Why did you attack so recklessly? Why did freeze up? What is wrong with you Dimitri?”

“I…” Dimitri mumbled. “I don’t know.”

Edelgard’s eyes flashed. “You don’t know? How can you allow yourself to lose focus in a battle? It’s life or death-“

A thunderous crash of metal and magic blasted out from across the room, dust and gravel shooting from the. floor. Edelgard recoiled, and Dedue raised his shield.

“Speaking of losing focus…” Claude muttered against a pillar. “I think it’s best if we do our best not to get in the way of that fight. I think it’s out of our weight class.”

“What fight? With the Death Knight?” Dimitri forced himself off the ground. “Who could-“

Standing opposed to the Death Knight was a figure clad in black. Her green hair seemed to float with an unseen power. In her hand was a sword, burning red and gold, locked in contest with a jet black and silver scythe. She turned her head, and her almost glowing green eyes pierced through Dimitri.

“Rest now, Dimitri. You have fought enough.”

In an instant her opposite hand raised itself, holy magic blasting against the black-clad rider. The air exploded, and when sight returned, Byleth stood firm as the Death Knight reeled away, pants echoing from under his mask. Byleth cocked her head to the side. “I believe we are done.”

The Death Knight let out a raspy laugh between his ragged breath. **“And after I went to the trouble of keeping your precious, suicidal students alive, you demand we end this now?”**

“I say it because you have about one more blow left in you.” Byleth said, adjusting her grip on the glowing blade.

“That blade…” Edelgard muttered. “It can’t be…but it is…”

“That’s the Sword of the Creator!” Claude sputtered. “But- What- How-“

The Death Knight Raised his hand, and lightning exploded out of his fingertips. Byleth jumped away, unperturbed. The lightning continued to flow, following Byleth’s each and every dodge.

“How’s teach gonna put him down now? The freak of nature seems more than happy to- wait.” Incredulity entered Claude’s voice. “What the hell is happening to the sword?”

The glowing blade in Byleth’s hand seemed to snap and break apart as she ran, shards twisting an and swaying in the air, connected together in a thick wire. Byleth snapped her wrist, and the shards shot through the air, winding towards the knight’s very head. The lightning ceased, and the Death Knight’s hand reached out to try and catch the blade tip, Scythe reaching out to strike the wire. Byleth tilted her hand again, and the sword pieces accelerated, slipping through the knight’s grasp and around the blade of his scythe before landing a blow on his chest, hiting with such terrific force that the Death Knight was thrown backwards off his steed, crashing into the stone ground below. If it was not a killing blow, it was certainly one that would render any man unconscious.

Dimitri stared ahead in bewilderment and awe, as questions raced through his mind. Was Byleth truly wielding the Sword of the Creator? Did that mean she was kin to Nemesis, the legendary king of old?

Byleth regarded the scene for a moment, before twisting her wrist again. The blade fragments snapped and clicked through the air, melting back into their original shape. Byleth had begun to turn back, and seemed ready to say something-

A shriek of metal forced her to turn back. The Death Knight was somehow standing, clutching the last segment of the blade, magic flowing in his hands and the same burning glow of the Sword of the Creator shining through the thick steel protecting the base of his neck. **“One last blow.”** The Death Knight raised his Scythe high, ready to swing down at a target just in front of himself. Byleth’s eye’s narrowed.

“Professor, I’ll help you!” Dimitri shouted, running forward. Byleth’s eye flashed and she pushed him back.

Dimitri stumbled. Voices hissed. _“See how much she trusts you, boy?”_

Dimitri swallowed. “Professor, why-“

In a flash of dark light, Byleth teleported next to the Death Knight, and the glistening scythe descended. Dimitri cried out.

But there was no fleshy crunch, no fountain of blood, only another dull clang of metal. Byleth had dropped the Sword’s pommel, and held a small dagger with both her hands, somehow holding back the Death Knight’s great scythe. The two struggled against each other, metal grinding, but neither could move forward. The Death Knight groaned, before his head shot up. Dimitri could feel his eye dart around the room. A rasping metallic whistle echoed out of his mask, and the clop of hoof steps rung out. Another whistle, and the step changed to a gallop. The Death Knight’s stallion was charging, and Byleth remained immobile.

Dimitri stood up again. “Profes-“

Everyone stopped as tremor ran through the ground. The once charging hoofbeats now were as uncertain as the nervous neighing. Another tremor ran through the mausoleum, closer this time.

 **“What have you done?”** The Death Knight demanded.

Byleth sighed. “Not everything is my fault.”

A tremor morphed into a rumble, and the ground began to shake. Dimitri stumbled to a pillar for support. Looking back, he could see all the other students and surviving churchmen clutching and stumbling amongst themselves, any semblance of order lost. Byleth and the Death Knight had disengaged, both somehow keeping balance in the quakes.

With one final tremble, the earth spilt apart under the casket nearest Byleth. Out of the rubble emerged a worm-like monster, It’s neck twice as thick as one of the support columns. Dark brown carapace covered its body, and a pit of saliva oozed out of dark red mouth. A primal roar thundered out of the beast, and it raised its head high in challenge. In a flash of magic, the Death Knight and his steed disappeared.

Dimitri trembled, but steeled himself. “Everyone! To arms! We must fight for one last time! One final effort, and we shall- “ The words died on his lips as he saw a small girl climb her way to the top of the beast, dust covering her entire body.

“I told you Shai! Left! Not right- “ the girl paused looking up. “Oh.” She leaned back, scratching the top of the beast’s head. “Um, hi?”

Silence followed. Dimitri turned back to the group. From Hubert to Raphael, all wore confused, dumbfounded expressions. Dimitri turned back to the worm, which was now purring. What he was seeing continued to not make sense. Dimitri stared longer, wondering if that would make whatever delusion he found himself in break.

Byleth gave a long, loud sigh. “Hello Hapi.” Dimitri remembered the name, it was from Abyss, and perhaps under the thick layer of dust it was the same girl.

Hapi waved down. “Hi Chatterbox. Did this big lug interrupt something important?”

“No.” Byleth sheathed her dagger, before bending down to pick of the Sword of the Creator. “But the church will be here soon. You will have to answer their questions.”

Hapi deflated. “Oh. Joy.”

Byleth sighed, dusted her shoulders, and began walking to the doors. “Come along, Dimitri. You have wounds that need tending.”

Dimitri watched her shadow pass him by, growing larger and larger in the candlelight, towards a stunned Dedue and Edelgard. His father’s voice hissed.

_“You must lead, boy. Do not follow her!”_

Dimitri looked down to the sword at Byleth’s side, still gently humming with power. A woman like that was strong. Stronger than anyone he had ever seen. Strong enough perhaps…

“Dimitri?”

Dimitri looked up into Byleth’s green eyes, colored with concern. Behind her, Dedue was advancing, and in the corner of his eye, Dimitri could see Felix staring.

He looked away from them all, flustered and exhausted. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to [Dox](https://paradoxsage.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!
> 
> Also, thank you all for getting this story past 10000 hits and 470 Kudos! It means a lot and I'll keep working to entertain you all!
> 
> And then Catherine kicks down the door, ready to bust some heads, sees this hot mess, and shouts “WHAT THE FU-“ And then Seteth stops her because Flayn is in earshot.
> 
> Hope the explanation of some of the Crest powers worked for you all. Sylvain’s Fissure dragon Crest seemed easy enough. Apparently, Felix has a shield Crest which boosts damage, instead of giving him % chance damage block. I don’t know either.
> 
> Happy first anniversary to the game! At this rate, I’ll make it to the school year’s end by the second.


	18. Dark Clouds Gather

The moonlight gently fell from the cathedral’s grand windows, contrasting with the bright glow of the candlelight illuminating the room. The shadows of the heirs flickered across the pews, spilling onto the backs of the Western Church members standing before Rhea.

“You can’t do this!” One shouted. “We have done nothing wrong!”

Rhea fought down her exhaustion. This month had been emotionally exhausting, and preparing and performing the Rite of Rebirth always took its toll. “Disturbing the Rite of Rebirth with your dark deeds was criminal enough. Do not add deceit to your sins. Take what little honor you have left, and offer your lives in atonement.”

“No!” Another cried out. “We were wronged! It’s a conspiracy!”

“The goddess would never forgive our execution! We fight for her light!” A third added.

“Monster! You’ve already killed so many of our fellows! Are you not satisfied?”

“This concludes the investigation. Take these lost souls out of my sight.” Rhea nodded to the guards, who marched away, prisoners in tow.

After they left, Rhea deflated, allowing herself a sigh. “The good work never ends…” She turned to Shamir, who still stood at attention. “Where is this…Hapi girl?”

Shamir’s voice remained clipped and professional. “She’s up in your office. Aelfric’s with her.”

Rhea gave a small nod. “I see. Thank you for your service, Shamir. We will discuss our visit to the Western Church as well as the investigation and removal of their bishops in time.”

“Lady Rhea.” Shamir nodded back, and departed after the prisoners.

Seteth grumbled. “I shall be off, then. I’ll try and coordinate what else needs to be put away after the Rite.”

“Oh?” Rhea raised her eyebrow. “You do not plan to come and question the girl?”

Seteth grunted. “I’ll get my answers from Professor Eisner, she apparently taught the girl how to control the beast.” With that, he stalked away, pausing in the pews to share a look with Byleth, who stood next to the three heirs, the Sword of the Creator glowing faintly at her side. After a moment, Seteth gave a _harrumph_ , and exited the cathedral.

Rhea swallowed down a sigh, before making her way towards the group. “I would like to thank you and your classmates for apprehending these villains. I shudder to think what would happen if the thieves had managed to steal the Sword of the Creator from its hiding place.”

“No worries. All in a night’s work.” Claude said. “But I have to know- what was the sword doing in a tomb, of all places? And how come Teach can use it?”

“I will have to consult the histories to answer that.” Rhea looked at Byleth. Byleth stared back.

“It doesn’t have a Crest stone.” Edelgard murmured, her eyes fixed on the blade. “How can she use it without a Crest stone? And where…”

Rhea’s lips thinned. “Another conundrum to ruminate upon. For now, I think it best you three retire for the evening. You’ve had an exhausting fight.”

Edelgard looked up, startled. As though she hadn’t even seen Rhea. “Ah. Yes, Archbishop.”

Dimitri said nothing, and bowed his head. Claude gave a short laugh.

“Yeah, I guess we did. Good evening, your grace.”

The three were slow to move. Claude stepped casually, but could not hide his nervous jitters from Rhea. Edelgard moved slowly, and her eyes swung from Rhea to Byleth to the Sword of the Creator and back again. Dimitri turned to Byleth, but did not take any more steps towards the door. Byleth expression gave no answers. Rhea pressed her lips together. “Princess Edelgard, Prince Dimitri, is something the matter? Do you need healing?”

“Ah. No, thank you, archbishop.” Dimitri said quietly.

Edelgard looked away from Byleth. “It’s nothing you need concern yourself with, your grace-”

“The students have concerns and questions about the Western Church members’ fate.” Byleth said. All three of the lords turned to her, eyes wide.

“Is that so?” Rhea said. “Then please, ask your questions.”

“What, really? Don’t you…” Claude brow shot up. “…Don’t you have a dozen and one things to do before sunrise?”

Rhea locked eyes with Byleth. “I do, unfortunately. But your professor raises…” Rhea bit her tongue and furrowed her brow. Clearly, Byleth knew something. “Your peace of mind is important to me.”

“Alright…” Claude spoke up first. “Just for clarity’s sake, why exactly did you order them killed?”

“They all came to Garreg Mach with intent to rob graves. From Saint Seiros herself, no less.” Rhea scoffed. “Such heresy alone would be enough to pass judgment on these villains, but they also attempted to slay you three and your classmates when you went to stop them. Killing children is appalling, and must be punished accordingly.”

“No, no, I understand that, I just wanted to know why you didn’t keep them alive to provide testimony.” Claude said.

“Ah. I see.” Rhea pursed her lips. “The Western Church came under the threat of an assassin’s writ against me, and this is hardly the first time the church branches have quarreled with each other. Suffice to say, I already know everything they could tell me, not that they ever would.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough reasoning.” Claude added mildly.

“It is no trouble. Is there anything else I can clarify for you?” Rhea smiled softly.

Claude gave a practiced half-grin back. “No, I’d say my curiosity ends there tonight.” The Riegan heir’s fake smile looked very much like his grandfather’s did- if Rhea recalled correctly, it was the same face Oswald gave her after asking Rhea to explain what was considered an acceptable time for lights out in what room when practicing magic. A month later, Oswald had been found with a young lady in one of the private study rooms pretending to practice holy magic and actively studying things that would send Seteth into a fit.

Dimitri gave a small nod, but nothing else. The prince of Faerghus’ silence was likely political prudence. After all, the Western Church was heavily involved in Faerghus’ politics. It was proper for him to keep out of such matters until he claimed his own place on Fhirdiad’s throne. It was good to see a prince so restrained- Rhea had seen many kings and nobles strung up later in life over matters they had shouted too loudly in Garreg Mach’s halls.

Edelgard was peculiar. Her eyes kept darting between Byleth and Rhea, as subtly as one could. The girl was nervous about something, but Rhea could not quite place it- perhaps it was simply due to her post-battle nerves. Though the girl had expressed interest in the Sword of the Creator and all the questions that raised.

Edelgard cleared her throat. “Archbishop, I was wondering, is it truly the church’s place to hand out such a punishment?”

Rhea blinked. “Who else would?”

“I thought a magistrate or some other government body would take care of such matters.”

Rhea gave a shake of her head. “No, there are no such people in Garreg Mach. This fortress, and much of the nearby land, does not belong to any of the three nations, and is under the direct stewardship of the church. As archbishop, I have ultimate authority in this part of Fódlan.”

Edelgard gave a subtle frown. “But surely, our nations would want to have a say?”

“They would, but generally, so long as the punishment delivered is appropriate, no one raises objections.” Rhea paused, putting a loose thread of hair back into place. “In any case, it would make no difference in these rogue’s fates. They tried to kill you three, not to mention all of the other students. Their execution was inevitable. It’s not unlike the bandits who ambushed you three months ago.”

“I only heard mutterings about their fate. Could you remind me what happened to them?” Claude asked in a tone that could be argued to be polite.

“After we interrogated them, and with some back and forth between the church and the nations, it was decided to send them to Lord Arundel of the empire. His lands were closest to where you three were first attacked.” Rhea clasped her hands together. “To my knowledge, he had them all hung. I can only hope they found peace in the embrace of the goddess.”

Edelgard opened her mouth, before looking back to Byleth.

Byleth nodded. “The archbishop will answer, Edelgard. You need only ask.”

Edelgard turned back to Rhea, a question caught in her throat. Claude was leaning forward, a spark twinkling in his eye. Dimitri’s expression had grown curious. Edelgard’s nervousness had returned- it was strange, whenever Rhea spotted her socializing with the other students or even the faculty, she seemed perfectly composed. But standing before Rhea, the girl couldn’t seem to find her voice. It couldn’t be inexperience, the girl was heir to the Adrestian throne, and would have undoubtedly been tutored about her future relationship between their two offices, no matter how diminished the relationship had become over the centuries-

“Ah, I understand.” Rhea gave a gentle smile. Politics, even a century removed, loomed over their titles. That must be the source of the girl’s hesitation. “Please, Princess Edelgard, ask anything you wish. Think nothing of a hundred-year rift between the church and empire. As I said before, I am glad to answer any questions you have.”

Edelgard took a breath. “It just seems…that killing people goes against the church’s mission of peace.”

Rhea’s face fell. “Yes. It is unfortunate that such acts are necessary. Alas, some people must be dealt with strictly.”

“Is that really it?” Edelgard stared with incredulity. “That’s your ex-“ She coughed, choking down her words. “That’s the explanation? That’s why the church will go against their own mission of peace and mercy?”

Rhea gave a shallow frown, inkling her head downward. “Unfortunately, yes. Some people refuse to see reason, and as much as I wish for peace, they make violence my only option. I need not remind you the fifth eternal commandment allows such acts if they are the will of the goddess. Trespasses on holy ground and conspiracy to commit murder make the just response quite clear.”

“…And the purge of the Western Church?” Edelgard all but muttered.

Rhea stopped herself from snorting. “From what I have seen, the rot plagues both the head and the body of their house. A cleansing must be performed, less the limb grow gangrenous.”

Rhea, steadied herself, looking across the three heirs. “In effect, my judgement is not so different from your own actions this evening.”

Edelgard’s eye narrowed, though her voice remained level. Curious. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s rather simple. You caught these men in an attempt to rob graves. Instead of submitting themselves to judgement and possible mercy, they attacked you and your classmates with intent to kill.” Rhea shook her head. “A despicable act, and one justly punished justly by your blades.”

“But that’s different. These men have surrendered.” Edelgard pressed. “There is no reason to kill them.”

Rhea studied Edelgard. The girl had grown bolder. There was an anger burning in her eyes, though her voice was holding a neutral tone. Rhea couldn’t place the source of the emotion. Perhaps a particularly pious background? Edelgard had brought up scripture in her questioning. Or perhaps it was the imperial family’s hostility towards the central church.

In the end, it mattered little. “Crime must be punished, and the guilty must be given their due. Sometimes an offense is too great to afford mercy.” Rhea paused, before giving a soft smile. “Though I am pleasantly surprised by your outlook, Princess Edelgard.”

Edelgard blinked, and confusion ruled her face. “What?”

“Your desire to grant mercy to those who have wronged you speaks volumes of your character.” Rhea said gently. “When you take the throne one day, such compassion will serve your people well. I will pray for your rule to be as peaceful as we can make it.”

Edelgard did an admirable job of not stumbling over her words. “A-ah. My thanks, archbishop.” There was something more going on with the girl than her forefather’s anger over the church’s affairs. Every time Rhea smiled, Edelgard flinched. It was as if the girl feared her like an eagle feared a storm. It reminded Rhea of her Wilhelm on the eve of battle, pouring over maps and strategy, his body tense and prepared to strike at any spy that may lay hidden in their midst, preparing to strike-

Perhaps it was best not to push further for now. Rhea nodded to Claude and Dimitri. “I would offer the same prayers to the two of you, of course.”

“I’m flattered, Lady Rhea.” Claude’s eyes twinkled with a dark humor, as though he were laughing at some private joke. Most curious. Dimitri nodded back, muttering his thanks.

“Is something the matter, Prince Dimitri?” Rhea frowned. “You are quite solemn.”

Dimitri flinched, before bowing. “No archbishop, it’s just all this talk of betrayal, justice, and the shadow looming over it all-“ Dimitri’s first clenched and he sucked in a breath. “Forgive me, but I would prefer to keep my silence on the matter.”

Rhea nodded in sympathy. “I understand.”

“With that, perhaps it is best for us to retire.” Byleth spoke up. “Hapi is still waiting for the archbishop, and we will all be here tomorrow to discuss anything else.”

Rhea turned to look down at the moon cast shadows. It was very late. “Yes, I believe Professor Eisner is correct. I must bid you three- “

“Oh wait!” Claude snapped his finger. “There was one other thing. The Death Knight that Teach fought- there was something glowing under his armor the same way the sword did. Gramps told me that was how the Hero’s Relics showed off their power. Does that mean…?”

Rhea paused, and felt her lips thin. “Yes…yes, that is correct. What you described to me before the trial is most certainly a Relic.” Rhea felt her knuckles turn white. “The Rafail Gem, to be precise. It bestows powerful shield magic to any that bear the Crest of Lamine.” Rhea turned to Byleth, who stared back blankly. “But an artifact like that should be held under lock and key…” Rhea bit her lip. “The fact that it is in the hand of a rogue is of great concern. I will have to contact the family in charge of its safekeeping for more details.”

“The Rafail Gem…” Rhea saw a genuine glow of curiosity shone through Claude’s face. “If I recall my history, that’s the one Relic that’s stayed in the Empire’s borders through thick and thin for the past thousand years, correct?”

Edelgard’s brow had narrowed and her hands had moved behind her back. Her lips pressed together. “Yes. Though the family that guarded it has wasted away. I had not heard anything of the gem in years.”

Claude clicked his tongue as his eyes glinted with calculation. Dimitri’s face was lost in a haze. Edelgard continued to simmer. Rhea grimaced, but looked ahead.

“Rest assured that the church will waste no expense in tracking down this villain. If there are any other details or subjects you wish to discuss, please bring them to my attention. But for now, I must ask you to return to your dormitories. It is well past curfew, and your professor and I still have much to do.”

The three lords nodded or bowed. Rhea sighed, and walked to the cathedral’s doors, Byleth quickly falling in behind her. They walked quickly over the bridge, silent as they passed the small army of knights running back and forth across Garreg Mach in search of any more conspirators hiding in the gloom. Entering the main hall found guards standing at every doorway, rigid and immovable, ears perked for anything suspicious. The two took to the stairs, climbing quickly. Once they had reached the mid-level of the staircase and a pretense of privacy could be maintained, Rhea stopped and whispered.

“You always find the Sword of the Creator tonight?”

Byleth shrugged. “I have a flair for the dramatic. I plan to keep it, unless you have objection.”

“No. I will give a proclamation I imagine you have heard many times.” Rhea snorted. “Along with your recent exploits, I can’t imagine what this will do to your fame.”

Byleth nodded. “Flayn reads through marriage proposals I receive. She’s been trying to trick Seteth into thinking they’re for her. She promises to set him off when you are present.”

Rhea smirked. “That would be quite the sight. I’ll have to give Flayn my th- wait.” Her eyes narrowed. “You are being accosted with marriage proposals?” Rhea’s lips thinned. “From whom?”

“Experience tells me prejudicing you against any stupid children or their stupid parents ends poorly.”

Rhea stared down at Byleth. “Do you plan to use that excuse often? Do you think I will reach down and pluck off their heads, granddaughter?”

Byleth sighed. “I deal with it in much the same way you deal with your horde of unwanted suitors over the centuries. Polite disinterest.”

Rhea frowned, but didn’t comment further. There were other, equally important points to go over. “Who is the Death Knight? Which noble has to die?”

Byleth, expression was stone. “No noble. He is a bastard child, forsaken by his father.”

“His name?”

“Emile. He wanders the nations, looking for battle.”

Rhea’s fist clenched. “Why did you not tell us he had access to the Rafail Gem?”

Byleth huffed. “He usually doesn’t.”

Rhea bit her cheek. “We will discuss your blasé attitude towards details later, _again_ , granddaughter.”

Byleth sighed, and Rhea responded with a glare. Byleth bit her lip and nodded.

“My apologies, grandmother.”

Rhea sniffed, smoothed out her dress, and continued upward. Arriving at her throne room, she quirked her eyebrow at one of the guards. He nodded in turn. Rhea pushed open the door and calmly walked in, and then turned to her office, knocking.

“Aelfric? Are you two there?”

There was a flurry of hushed whispering, before the girl’s voice crept though the door.

“Nowhere else we’re allowed to be, your Holiness.”

Rhea blinked. She could hear Aelfric pleading behind the door. After a moment, Rhea gently pushed the door open.

The girl had the same dark skin and red hair she had when Rhea had first placed her under protection. The same coloring Timotheos had, the same gentle eyes and calm demeanor her lost apostle held. Rhea had wondered if she might be distracted by the girl’s resemblance to her long-gone lover, like how the children of her Wilhelm always made her see his eyes and hear his voice even centuries later.

The girl’s attitude quickly cured Rhea of that delusion.

“-Please Hapi, don’t give such a poor impression- “ Aelfric stopped as heard Rhea enter. His robes were wrinkled, and the start of an unkempt beard was growing under drooping eyes. He stood next to the girl, who had placed herself atop a sofa, her feet resting on the table. A puddle of dust lay across the furniture, slowly growing with each swipe the girl gave her clothes and hair. A small bundle of towels sat untouched next to the couch.

“Archbishop! My…” Aelfric grimaced. “…My apologies, it’s just that Hapi has had a…difficult time today.”

The girl -Hapi, that was her name- looked up, unconcerned. “Don’t mind me, sit wherever you want.” She gestured to another couch, also covered in dust.

Rhea arched an eyebrow. Hapi lazily held her gaze. Aelfric fidgeted in the background. Rhea looked down at the mess, and the back up to Hapi, who shrugged.

“I dunno what to say, your Holiness. Fancy stuff has this weird habit of getting dirty.” Hapi paused, poking at her lip. “I guess that’s why rich people need so many servants. I wouldn’t know, being forced to live underground and all.”

“Perhaps it’s best to go over what we were called here for.” Byleth’s voice wafted from behind Rhea.

Hapi’s head tilted. “Hey Chatterbox. Her Holiness keeping you up after your heroics too?”

Byleth walked next to Aelfric and shrugged her shoulders. Aelfric was biting his lip and his arms hung limply. Rhea’s lip curled. “…Very well.”

Rhea closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then turned to Hapi, a firm expression on her face. “Hapi, your powers have evolved from simply being able to call demonic beasts to actively controlling them.”

The girl blew a stray tough of hair out of her eyes. A bit of dust wafted to the floor. “Sure seems that way.”

Rhea’s eyes drifted to Byleth. “You taught her this?”

Byleth nodded. Hapi muttered under her breath. Rhea took a breath. “Aelfric.” The cardinal did not make an effort to straighten his slouching posture. “You learned this tonight as well?”

Aelfric’s hand ran over his chin. He glanced to Hapi, grimacing before he spoke. “I have been…not been made aware of this, no.”

Hapi frowned. “You were pretty deep in the bottle for the past few months. I tried to tell you, but it didn’t stick.”

Aelfric coughed into his fist. “I…Yes, that may have…happened. Once or…twice.”

Hapi bit her lip, but offered no comment. Rhea’s lips thinned. “Child. Hapi. Does your sigh still summon beasts?”

Hapi’s head rolled onto her shoulder. “Dunno. Want me to check?”

Rhea continued to stare down at the girl. “Then the original reason we placed you into our protection has not changed.” Hapi rolled her eyes. Rhea turned to Byleth. “Professor Eisner, you have managed to teach this child how to wield her unusual powers in new, perilous ways. Can you foresee a way to remove the danger from her sigh?”

Hapi and Aelfric turned to Byleth, who hummed. “From what I was able to learn, Hapi’s Crest is overacting. Somehow, it has latched onto her sigh as a trigger to release all of its power. I have been working with Professor Hanneman on a project that had certain applications, one of which being a partial solution to her problem.”

Hapi reached into her pocket, and pulled out a small sphere, showing it to Aelfric. The dull, almost organic sheen told Rhea that it was made of Umbral Steel. Etched onto the trinket was the Crest of Timotheos. “Chatterbox gave it to me. It helps me focus.” She turned to Byleth as she placed the sphere back into her pocket. “Thanks for the spare, by the way.”

Byleth continued, unperturbed. “With my experience regarding overacting Crests,” Byleth’s eyes flashed at Rhea. “I can make an educated guess that continued use and exposure to the artifact will help Hapi reign her power under control.”

“It took a full minute for Shai to come last time I sighed.” The girl said with cheer, before frowning. “Or maybe that was because he was eating rocks.”

Rhea bit her lip. The girl’s control was far below what Timotheos had managed, but nonetheless impressive. And dangerous. “…Such progress is heartening. I am gladdened by your newfound control.”

“Yeah, it only took you three years with me locked up in your sewers to find a cure.” Hapi stretched her arms. “So when can I expect a going away party?”

Rhea’s expression remained firm. “Unfortunately, you must remain under the church’s supervision for some time yet.”

Hapi’s arms and expression fell. “What.” She rocked off the sofa, standing up with narrow eyes. “What gives you the right? You already keep me locked away for my-“ a scoff passed through her lips. “-own protection, and now that I have my sighing under control, you won’t let me leave?”

Rhea stood unmoved. “Firstly, you do not yet have your power under control. Secondly, your display tonight will have serious repercussions-“

“What, now I’m your property that you get to discipline because I broke apart a few worthless statues that those Western Church guys had already busted up?”

Rhea’s eyes narrowed. “Your display of power was in front of a collection of students, each connected to nearly every powerful family in Fódlan. If they have not already penned their fathers about your display they soon will. You will be accosted day and night to be used as a pawn in their wars. I would not wish that fate on any young woman.”

Hapi rolled her eyes. “Please, I can take care of myself. Who do you think you are, my mother? I can handle anything life throws at me.”

_“Lady Rhea, please.” Sitri scoffed. “Plenty of my cohorts are having children. Nothing will happen to me.”_

“Besides,” Hapi continued. “It’s not like I don’t know how to disappear from sight. It’s all you learn down in Abyss.”

Rhea’s eyes flickered to Byleth, who offered no answer. “My verdict is final. You will remain under the Church’s protection.”

“Lady Rhea, please be reasonable.” Aelfric stepped forward. “Hapi is a young woman, and more than capable of making her own decisions. The burden her power places upon her is great, but so is her sense of responsibility. I can count the times she has broken discipline and sighed on one finger.”

“Some risks are too great to take.” Rhea said. Hapi’s eye narrowed, and Aelfric’s face darkened.

“This is just like you. Lady Rhea. This is just like your lip service towards Abyss- “

“Perhaps,” Byleth’s voice drawled. “I may offer a compromise and solution?”

Rhea’s lips thinned. “And what might that be?”

“Hapi still needs training. I can continue aiding her.” Byleth nodded to Hapi, whose lip quirked. “Then, after the dust of recent events settle, we can go over her situation in more detail. Near graduation, perhaps.” She turned to Aelfric. “And we can bring Aelfric to the meeting in the next few weeks discussing progress between houses to give a budget for his group of students and general improvements to the sewer ways.”

There was no such meeting. Rhea ran her tongue across the roof of her mouth. “…That can be arranged.” Her eyes narrowed. “But I will insist that a significant portion of that time will focus on your own conduct.”

Byleth nodded. Rhea’s eyes drifted towards Hapi’s pocket. “There will also be serious discussion on the matter of your and Hanneman’s pet project.” Byleth nodded again, unperturbed.

“That is…something, I suppose.” Aelfric sighed. “I will expect you to commit something definite towards Abyss this time.”

“Yeah, like laundry services.” Another patch of dirt spread across the floor. “And I don’t remember agreeing to any of this.”

Aelfric gave a soft smile. “One wonders what exactly is keeping you in Garreg Mach if you can travel by giant worm, Hapi.”

She smirked back. “Eh. The rest of the wolves are good company. And you still have my back.”

A shadow crossed Aelfric’s face. “Ah. I…” He coughed, and looked away. “I suppose.”

A yawn sounded. Everyone turned to see Byleth covering her own mouth. “If that’s all, I’m going to go fall asleep.” Byleth looked up at the moon. “It’s been a long day, and- “ She gestured towards the Sword of the Creator for Rhea. “-After a fight like that, I could use some rest.”

Rhea sighed. “I must find Seteth to add Aelfric and the Abyss to the schedule.” He would not be pleased with the new workload.

“Yes, well…” Aelfric closed his eyes and smiled at Hapi. “I trust you can make your way back to your quarters, Hapi? I have a presentation to begin organizing.”

She gave a mock salute. “You’re always working hard for us, I guess I can do that much. See you tomorrow, Aelfric.”

The cardinal gave an all too forced smile, a small bow, and then all but ran away. Hapi blinked after him. “Huh, guess he still has a hangover or something. What do you think, Chatter-“ Hapi’s voice trailed off. Rhea turned, to find Byleth had already disappeared.

Hapi glanced up at Rhea. “I’m not gonna bow.” She turned and casually walked out and towards the stairs. Rhea looked down to mess of dust spread across her office floor, and with a roll of her eyes, followed. Nodding to the guards as she left, Rhea turned a corner towards the stairs just behind Hapi. The two made their way down the staircase in silence, before Hapi paused and turned.

“You know, I figured you would have made a bigger fuss about Shai and the mess he made in that tomb or whatever it was.”

Rhea’s thumb ran over a scaley patch of skin. “So long as the beast is in control, I have no objection to its presence. As for the Holy Mausoleum, you did not damage anything important enough to warrant punishment.”

“Huh, really?”

Just the ceremonial grave of the Western Church’s most recent bishop who’s preaching had finalized the west branch’s hatred of her. “Yes.”

Hapi’s lip quirked. “You know, maybe it’s the low light of the stairwell, but now that I see you up close…” Rhea waited, unmoving. Hapi’s eyebrows furrowed. “I think I saw you in Abyss. As a statue.”

Rhea remained stoic, forcing herself to keep even breath. Her first creation-

-Her first _child's_ statue. The last proof of her existence, hidden away from the world. Now found by this _brat_. “I doubt that.”

“No really, I mean it. I was getting lost, and I somehow found this big statue of lady with a sword and shield who looked just like you. Had this weird inscription at the base that I couldn’t read.”

Rhea’s lip curled. “Abyss is made of the ruins of Garreg Mach’s foundations and old temples. What you found is likely an artifact of little importance. Any resemblance is nothing more than coincidence.”

Hapi huffed. “Really? Sure it’s not your great-great great granny’s official statue?”

“Very.” Rhea briskly passed Hapi. The subject need to change. “I have accommodated your petty acts of vandalism in my office, and decided to not charge you the outrageous sum it will take to repair the damage you did to the Holy Mausoleum. I would prefer you not connect me to every flight of fancy that catches your eye in the shadows of Abyss.” Rhea pointed down the stairs, towards the light. “Come along foolish girl. You’ve caused enough trouble.”

Hapi’s eyes narrowed. “So when you want to change the subject the damage Shai did is important enough to hold over my head?”

Rhea’s eyes narrowed. “The grave isn’t important. The floor is. Stop being difficult for the sake of it.”

“Oh I’m sorry, am I raining on your parade?” Hapi cocked her eyebrow. “Am I not being the perfect little prisoner for you?”

“You are being held for your own protection- “

Hapi’s eye roll was nearly audible. “Gee, thanks, your Holiness. I’m so grateful. I know, how about I show my appreciation by grinding up that statue you don’t care about to dust? That way, you don’t have to ever worry about some stupid brat like me ever bothering you about it ag- “

Rhea’s fist smashed into the wall next to Hapi head, and stone shattered under knuckles. Shrapnel clung to Rhea’s fist, unable to pierce her skin. Hapi’s eyes shot open from their narrow stare, looking towards Rhea’s arm, before holding her breath and staring at Rhea, too frightened to blink.

Rhea pulled her fist out of the wall, bits of stone and mortar falling away. Her eyes burnt green as she loomed over Hapi, her face a wrathful sneer. “if you so much as try,” Rhea spoke with a terribly calm voice, like the peace before the sky came crashing down in a firestorm. “I will kill you.” Rhea stepped back, scorn dripping from her voice. “Go.” Hapi swallowed, and broke into a nervous trot. Rhea watched her leave before descending the stairs, waving off the guards at the bottom. She looked after Hapi, who nervously peered over her shoulder every few steps, fading into the walls and stonework of Garreg Mach. Rhea sniffed, and began to march towards the front hall. She would have to confer with Seteth, and then she would descend once more to save her first’s last work.

* * *

Out of sight, Hubert looked to where Hapi had disappeared, and then to Rhea’s long shadow cast by the hall’s harsh candlelight. He smirked, and slipped back into the gloom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to [Dox](https://paradoxsage.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!
> 
> The western church scene is one of those weird bits in three houses that makes you scratch your head and try and figure out exactly how many rewrites 3H’s went through during development- from the general plot structure, you would think a rebelling faction of the church would get a lot more focus, but they more or less vanish from the plot after chapter 4. Yes, they’re in Seteth and Ashe’s paralogue, but they might as well be bandits. And then they are just around as random encounters in part 2. Go figure.
> 
> Also, you might have noticed Timotheos’ Crest on Rhea’s terrace in game- not sure what to make of it, but might as well roll with it. Rhea ordered that rest built on her balcony for some reason in universe. 
> 
> Hapi’s a weird character. She’s one of the only people in your party who has a direct grudge with the church, but the closest she gets to really giving an official the finger to their face is telling Ashe to temper his expectations.
> 
> So all in all, Rhea and Edelgard have achieved C support. I guess. Expect more Hapi down the line, and more of Claude being a little shit sooner rather than later.
> 
> And thanks to everyone for breaking this story past 500 kudos and 100 bookmarks!
> 
> Edited for spelling 9/30.


	19. A Dark Sign

**2 nd of the Verdant Rain Moon**

Arundel felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck for the fourth time in as many days. It had been of slight curiosity when it was reported their most hated foe had grown melancholic. Solon had not been able to find the reason, but took it as an encouraging opportunity for the next phase of their plans. The news of a new professor no older than 25 had raised eyebrows, but was hardly worth noting. Edelgard had reported nothing, and all Solon had seen was her training, even against the Death Knight. A prodigy teaching the children of nobles. A once in a decade event. Unremarkable and unimportant.

Then word spread of the girl slaying an entire horde of demonic beasts singlehandedly. Arundel took notice. Edelgard was as confounded as anyone else. Then the Death Knight had confirmed the killings. The girl went from a footnote to a priority. Arundel had tasked Solon with information gathering, but the fool was useless, spouting some nonsense about the professor disappearing in the middle of the campus whenever he would try to follow her. The only useful bit to come up was that archbishop had fallen ill a month later.

And then Solon had returned to Agartha, sweating and swearing in equal fury, babbling incoherently about this Byleth girl not only being a Nabataean, not only the Fell Star herself, but having knowledge of their present and future. At first, Arundel assumed Solon had fallen mad, but things then began to fall into place with dreadful certainty. The absurd power this Byleth had shown would be in line for a Nabataean. Rhea’s lowered mood was too coincidental to ignore. Another Nabataean appearing would certainly be just as shocking to her as it was to him. Neither she nor her brother seemed to procreate with humans over the centuries.

And now here he stood in the dark of his estate’s private garden, opposite to Edelgard, who insisted on wearing her rejected opera house costume.

“…And now the professor has the Sword of the Creator. She can wield its true power without the Crest stone.” Edelgard did a remarkable job of keeping her composure. He had trained her well.

And with that, everything clicked into place. Arundel did what he could to remain calm- it would not do to emote more than his niece. Perhaps her calmness had more to do with her ignorance than any control she possessed. “That’s-“ Arundel bit his tongue. Solon’s ravings made a disturbing amount of sense.

_“She is the Fell Star incarnate, come to destroy us all!” Solon shouted. “They are coming to rob us of even the Darkness we have been forced to wallow in! The end is nigh!’_

_Kronya, ever eager to prove useful, smashed a vase over Solon’s oversized head._

“The sword of the thief…” Arundel muttered.

“Thief? Hmm.” Edelgard said. Ah. He hadn’t meant for her to hear that. No matter. The girl was firmly opposed to the Nabataeans. This slip up mattered little. She continued on. “There is no way for me to get my hands on the blade. It will be in the professor’s possession for the foreseeable future.”

“And she can wield it without the stone…” Arundel kept from biting his lip. If what Solon had said was true and the professor was Nabataean, in theory she could wield the sword, but that would mean… “This professor. She has a Crest.”

“Yes.”

“The same as yours?”

Edelgard paused for a moment. “…Given her ability to wield the blade…”

There was something the girl wasn’t telling him. “What have you learned of the professor?”

“About as much as your spies, I am sure.” Edelgard said evenly.

So this game will continue. “It is my understanding that the Death Knight has been drooling for a fight with her. How did he fare?”

Edelgard was still. Arundel blinked.

“Jeritza used the Rafail Gem. The archbishop will be investigating.”

“What!” Arundel’s breath became sharp. “This is…that fool-“ His eyes narrowed. “And the professor still matched blows with him?”

Edelgard’s hands curled into fists. “Jeritza was not pulling punches.”

“See that the fool is properly punished for tipping our hand.” Arundel said to keep his teeth from grinding. “Anything else? What other information do you have on the professor?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“The professor keeps to herself. When I ask questions, she responds in riddles.” Edelgard’s voice was even, her posture was calm, and the characterization was reasonable. As always, her delivery was polished and flawless. Arundel didn’t believe it for a second. The time for shy teasing was over.

“What has she told you of the future?”

Edelgard recoiled. “What?”

Arundel’s did not allow himself to show his own feelings on the words that passed his lips. “The future. She has seen it. What has she told you? Did you think we did not know?”

Edelgard hesitated. “…She told me that she expected the attack on the tomb, though not so plainly.”

“And? Two dozen children were able to piece that together thanks to the Western church’s incompetence. What else?”

Edelgard swallowed. “…It is as I said. She speaks in riddles- ”

“Indulge me.”

He could hear Edelgard’s lips thin. “She…mentioned that she disliked war.”

“Anything more?”

“She repeats the theme.”

Arundel’s brow creased. Edelgard was hiding something. Several things. “Hmm.” This would require more information. “Does she mention my plan to use the Death Knight in the coming months?”

“Not yet.” Edelgard’s voice hinted at no deeper meaning, so whatever was unnerving his niece didn’t have anything to do with immediate plans.

Arundel stroked his beard. “Report anything she tells you back to me. I will be in touch.”

“That’s all?” Edelgard asked. “What of your plan to capture Flayn?”

“It will be improved. In the meantime, I have work to do.” Arundel raised his hand, preparing to teleport. “The professor- she is close to the archbishop, yes?”

“…From what I have seen, Rhea takes her council seriously.”

“Hmm.” Arundel snapped his fingers, and appeared in his private quarters. Stalking out towards his business office, he barked out orders at one of his secretaries.

“You. Clear my schedule for today. I have meetings to attend.”

The mousy, brown-haired woman with a haunted look barely had time to shudder out an answer before Arundel slammed his office door shut.

Despite his failure, Solon’s ravings were proving to be disturbingly accurate. This Byleth character had knowledge of their plans- both the location of Shambala and who Kronya was set to replace- and if she knew that, she undoubtedly knew more. Just getting an agent close to the professor would be an undertaking unto itself given her foreknowledge. Edelgard and Hubert did not count as such, and the Death Knight was nothing more than a violent brute. At least his newfound fixation assured that he could be properly aimed at the professor.

Arundel waved his hand at a mirror on the wall, and reflections other than his own coalesced. He would need the council of all the great minds of Agartha if they were to plot against this new threat. “Cornelia. Myson, Odesse. Report…”

Arundel could only stare at scenes before him. Cornelia was shouting at someone off in the distance, make-up smeared on her face. Odesse was frozen in the act of throwing a beggar into a pool of liquid- something toxic from the bubbling sound. And Myson-

Well, now he had incentive to put funding behind Solon’s idiotic memory tampering device.

“This isn’t what it looks like, lord.” Myson said with remarkable conviction.

Odesse tossed the nameless peon into the pool. His deadpan was quite clear, even with the screaming. “”It’s exactly what it looks like, Lord Thales.”

Cornelia’s was still fuming, and her lipstick was still wildly off target. “Why are you holding a jar of human toenails!”

“It’s not my fault this is the easiest way to track down the Fetters of Dromi!” Myson shouted. He turned to Odesse. “Be sure to keep any skin off, the trade goes south otherwise-“

“Why would you ever allow yourself to be associated with such…degeneracy?” Cornelia hissed.

“I don’t know, why you haven’t killed the king yet instead of letting him drool over you?” Myson scowled back. “I like your new look, by the way. Is that what drives the northern barbarians wild these days, random application of paint? What’s the taste of drunk savage- “

Cornelia made the second ugliest face Arundel had the displeasure of witnessing on a regular basis. “I have had to deal with incompetent maids all day, _Rufus_ for the past decade, and I will not be talked down to by a repugnant little b-“

Arundel felt his eyebrow twitch. It would be a long day.

…At least his niece and her shadow were as lost and directionless as he was.

* * *

Hubert casually strolled through the ruins of Abyss. The citizens gave him a respectable berth. He nodded to a woman in the distance, and she bolted away. It was good to have friends in low places.

Hubert smirked. Things were picking up. He took one more turn, and found himself in a small passageway, leading to the makeshift classroom. The ‘Ashen Wolves,’ they called themselves. It was no matter. Hubert’s target Hapi was exactly where she needed to be- leaning against a wall in the empty corridor, gazing off into nothing. Hubert smoothed out his uniform, before coughing into his fist. Hapi looked up, almost startled. He gave her a polite nod.

“Hello. Hapi, I presume.”

Hapi chewed on her lip for a moment, studying Hubert’s face. “Oh, right. I know you. You’re that noble brat who’s been trying to buy out Yuri-bird’s gang.”

Hubert raised an eyebrow. “You make me sound so nefarious.”

Hapi shrugged. “Coco warned me that you’d only be after one thing, and whatever it is, it’s gonna be even worse than what all the other boys chase me for.”

Hubert felt a smirk tug at his lips. “The former lady of Nuvelle’s description warms my heart.”

Hapi leaned forward. “So what do you want? I’ve got walls to stare at.”

“I am here to offer a proposition.”

“Really.”

Hubert took a step forward. “In a few short years, I will be the right hand to Adrestian Emperor. My favor is no small thing.”

“Right…” Hapi was already rolling her eyes. “And what exactly do you want? A worm mount of your own?”

“Nothing so tangible. Just information.” Hubert said casually. “You needn’t lose anything in our exchange.”

“Now that sounds like a deal that’s too good to be true.” A new voice wafted through the hallway. Hubert turned. Purple hair. Cocky smirk. Something resembling a house leader’s uniform. Yuri had arrived. “Problem is, I’m the only one who hands those out down here.”

Hubert chuckled. “Oh, my sincerest apologies.“

“Oh it’s no problem. How are you doing, Hapi?”

“Well enough, I guess. Bert here is less annoying than that purple fop with a bowl for a head.” She flicked some hair behind her ear. “I was just gonna go feed Shai some rocks.”

“Neat.” Yuri clapped Hubert on the shoulder. “I’ll lead young, rich, lost and frightened here up topside.”

“How generous of you.”

The grip grew tighter. “Come on, Hapi’s got a pet to feed, and doesn’t need one of your kind on her heels.” Yuri’s smirk gained a dangerous edge. “In fact, it nearly ate someone else who followed her. Warm bodies look a lot like cold rocks in the dark, you know.”

Hubert huffed out a laugh, brushing Yuri’s hand off his shoulder. “A tragedy that I would be loathed to repeat.” He took a step towards the exit, before stopping. “There’s just one thing you should know- I have no interest in saving the church from its own past. They can bluster all they like about heresy and betrayal, but the empire is under no obligation to give them anything.”

Hapi tilted her head. “That sounds pretty dangerous. And a surefire way to make sure I can only pal around in your country. Also, that was two things.”

Hubert gave a courtly bow. “Why would they be angry at you? Students wander Abyss all the time. Just because some might happen upon something the Archbishop wants hidden is not proof.”

Hapi’s mouth twitched. Hubert did not follow her eyes to watch whatever look she shared with Yuri. It was of no importance. “By your leave.” He turned and walked away, humming a dreary tune.

As he made way towards the surface, Hubert allowed himself to admire the scenery. The way the lanterns played off the architecture in Abyss was charming in its own way. Collapsed and dilapidated walls built atop each other would create an endless maze of light and shadow, allowing people to come and go between shifting lights. To be honest, Hubert enjoyed the aesthetics of Abyss- it spoke to something in him. If only the muck and vermin would be taken care of.

“Hey. Noble brat.” Yuri’s voice echoed from a hallway in front of Hubert. A rat scurried out of the passage, and Yuri casually followed after it.

Hubert stopped walking. “Yes?” Yuri flashed a predatory smile.

“No, no. I can walk and talk.” He gestured behind himself. Hubert stepped forward, walking towards the exit. Yuri fell in shoulder to shoulder, easily matching Hubert’s stride.

“Is this about the Hapi girl? She can make her own decisions, you know.”

Yuri’s eyes gleamed in the lanternlight. “Oh no, not at all. See, I’ve been meaning to chat with you for a while now. You’ve been getting nosy down here for the past few months.”

Hubert shrugged. “It’s good practice for my duties later in life. Garreg Mach is an officer’s academy, after all.”

“That’s nice.” Yuri leaned closer. “But just a hint, your money can only buy you so many friends.”

“And I only buy friends that are valuable enough to have.”

“A man after my own heart.” The two made their way to a bridge, complete with crumbling railings and poor lighting. “But you know what? Even with your shiny title, money only gets you so far in life. Try as much as you want, but my gang will always be loyal to me.”

Hubert raised his eyebrow. “Please. We both know it gets me far enough to threaten your puny little duchy. If you so much as try-“

Yuri’s leg snapped outward, and Hubert barely froze in time to stop from tripping. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Hubert saw a broken and useless patch of railing between him and the dark void the bridge stretched across.

Yuri scraped his boot along the floor, bending down to remove something stuck on his foot. It was a cockroach of some sort, that much Hubert could tell. Still struggling against its inevitable death, twitching and flailing its unbroken legs. Yuri promptly threw it off the bridge.

“Sorry about the scare. You learn to take your shots lest they start crawling into your bed.” Yuri’s smile hadn’t shifted.

Hubert snorted. “Quite. Was that all?”

“Just one more thing.” Yuri leaned back and sat atop a part of the dilapidated railing, cocky smirk intact. The boy was daring Hubert to try something. Yuri’s eyes narrowed.

“You try something with Hapi, and you’ll regret it.”

“Really.” Hubert suppressed a snort. “You think you can make me disappear? You do know who I am.”

“Oh, I don’t need to do anything. That church you have no interest in defending can be pretty ruthless.”

“Oh ho.” So there was a brain behind the wall of bravado. “But what will you say to them? And of what worth is the word of a vagrant who was thrown out of the academy?”

“Very little.” Yuri said. “But if that vagrant happened to be friends with a cardinal, he might not have to say anything.”

Hubert smirked back. “That sounds dangerously close to gossip and conjecture.”

Yuri was unmoved. “I don’t know. Word has it that the church higher ups are as bad at controlling their tempers as any king. Some people are going around saying they’ll brand anyone they don’t like as heretics.”

“Then it is fortunate that I have no plans to endanger miss Hapi and spring such an unfortunate series of events.”

“Yeah, fortunate.” Yuri crossed his legs, his smile shifting from that of a fat hungry cat to content bureaucrat- that is to say, very little. “Run along now, little noble. You look terribly out of place in that pretty little uniform.”

Hubert eyed Yuri’s discolored house leader robes, but the rogue didn’t budge. With a snort, Hubert was off. “Give my regards to the deposed lady Nuvelle.”

In short order, Hubert was once again stalking the halls of Garreg Mach, idly strolling through the classrooms. All in all, a decently successful trip. The bait had been laid for Hapi, and if Hubert was correct, she was exactly the type of person to agree to this sort of petty revenge. The Yuri character was confrontational, but hardly worth concerning himself with. In a few short months he would be nothing more than a footnote.

“Hubie! Hey, Hubie!”

Hubert turned to find Dorothea doing the remarkable job of scowling balancing genuine annoyance, faux anger, righteous indignation and just a hint of dubious intrigue. And Hubert had thought Opera didn’t allow for small subtleties. “Where have you been? This is the second time you’ve ditched me!”

“Yes, well-‘

“If you say empire business one more time, I’m going get Caspar to throw you into the lake.”

Hubert clicked his tongue and bowed. “Then I can only offer my deepest apologies.”

Dorothea crossed her arms and scoffed. “I only give boys three chances, Hubie. You’re getting dangerously close to losing me forever.”

Hubert gave a sigh as genuine as he could manage. Not very, given Dorothea’s expression. He’d have to work on that. “Then whatever could I offer a young lady as apology?”

“Well…” Dorothea tilted her head. “There’s some new silks in the market that Ferdie said he couldn’t buy me.”

“Oh? And might this other gentleman be there to see his favor bested?”

“He’ll hear about it.” Dorothea hooked her arm around Hubert’s and led the two of them down to the marketplace. He indulged her idle gossip with just enough of a response to keep up the pretense of listening. This little game with Dorothea was an amusing distraction, and after the utter chaos that was the Blue Sea Moon, Hubert would allow himself a moment of peace. Still, his thoughts turned back to how best to deal with Hapi. He would approach the girl again, in a week’s time. There he would bring up more of the church’s misdeeds. Hubert doubted he could convince the girl of the righteousness of his cause- his father had said he simply had a face that made others untrustworthy of him- But stir the church’s already foul reputation into something far worse than he could ever be? That was something Hubert could accomplish, even though he lacked Lady Edelgard’s charisma.

Hubert paused to give some sweet nothing to Dorothea, who was looking over a display of perfumes. And of course he could not bring Lady Edelgard in on the scheme- on the off chance that he did get caught, plausible deniability was a must. And of course, if the church’s wrath really did fall on the Hapi girl in the worst-case scenario, it would mean that she and her more monstrous friends could only reside in the empire so long as the church stood. That suited Hubert quite nicely. Not to mention such an act could generate more sympathy in parts of the Alliance and give more reason to already angry nobles in the Kingdom-

Well, best not to get ahead of himself. Dorothea whispered something about fashion in the court, and Hubert shrugged. Building on presumptions was bad for his health. Back to the Hapi girl. Another point to consider was her friendship with Constance von Nuvelle. Hubert was surprised to learn that the heiress had found her way to Abyss of all places, but he wasn’t about to complain. He could dangle some time with Lady Edelgard in return for influence. Not immediately of course; it was best if these things felt organic, especially with the would-be crime lord nipping his heels. Luring the girl out of the Abyss would take some effort, but hardly unworkable.

Hmm. Constance and Hapi. How best to-

“Hey, buddy!” Someone shouted, and he snapped to attention. Dorothea was standing next to a vendor, holding up an exotic looking dress, with a perplexed look on her face.

“My apologies, Dorothea. I was lost in thought.” Hubert bowed his head. “I pray this doesn’t count as my third strike.”

“You were muttering something about another woman, kid.” The voice that broke his revery spoke up. It was the shopkeeper of the stall, a woman with maroon hair and a mercenary edge. “I’d say your girlfriend’s got plenty to be mad about.”

Oh. He thought he had eliminated that bad habit. This could prove troublesome.

Dorothea was startled by the shop keep’s words, but quickly morphed her confusion into righteous indignation. “Yes, Hubie. You were muttering about how you were going to keep Florence happy- are you cheating on me?” Her mock outrage kept getting better. It was almost like she had a career in acting.

Hubert studied both Dorothea and the shopkeeper’s faces. There was plenty of noise in the air. This was a marketplace after all. The shopkeeper didn’t seem to note any inconsistency with Dorothea’s pronunciation, and Dorothea was more focused on her indignation than any of the words- it seemed a happy little quirk of fate that he didn’t have to worry about burring that bit of information for any leaks. The situation was unstable enough as it was, and Hubert didn’t need random chance to work against him if anyone had overheard him plotting about the new talk of the town.

Hubert smiled. “I have an aunt of some distant relation. Father is insisting I write a letter for her birthday.”

Dorothea sniffed. “Really?”

He raised his hand. “On my honor.”

Dorothea chewed her lip. “Well…I suppose I can believe that.” She pouted. “But now people will see we’ve fought! I can’t get Ferdie to buy things for me without your rivalry, not with how I’ve got him hooked!”

Hubert caught the shopkeeper smirking out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t suppose you might suggest I buy you something to smooth things over.”

Dorothea brought a cloth to her dry eyes. “I suppose if you bought me a dress, things would look better.” She brightened. “I’d even wear it to the next weekend party. It’d drive Ferdie up a wall.”

“Well when you put it that way, how can I refuse?” Ferdinand always made the funniest faces.

“Good! This one.” Dorothea plucked the exotic dress from the vendor’s stand, holding it up to her body. It was quite lovely on her frame, all greens and lace. Hubert could only imagine Dorothea snapping at Ferdinand when his eyes inevitably wandered downward-

“2,500 gold please.” The Shopkeeper announced.

Hubert felt his breath catch. “I-this-It’s just a-“ His eyes turned back to Dorothea, who had the least innocent face Hubert had seen in several months. And he shaved with a mirror.

“I will avenge myself of this larceny.” Hubert vowed.

Dorothea smiled wider.

* * *

It had been a long day, and twilight had fallen by the time Dorothea entered the library. Scanning the aisles, she ventured deeper and deeper, passing by rows of books and a scattering of students. On a bulletin board, Tomas the librarian’s missing poster had been upgraded to being wanted for theft, but after the explosive night in the Holy Mausoleum, hardly anyone in Garreg Mach even bothered to talk about something as dull as a missing librarian-

“Ow!”

Dorothea looked down. A servant was rubbing his foot, which her boot was on- a young boy, obviously Almyran. He still swore like anyone else though.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Dorotha said as she removed her foot. The boy just glared, before picking up a book and walking away.

Dorothea grimaced, but turned back to her search. Soon, her quarry was found. Ferdinand was sitting at a table, his nose stuck in a book. Dorothea made her way over to him and sat opposite to him.

“I got something.”

Ferdinand slowly lowered the book. Dorothea continued.

“He slipped up when he was lost in thought. Simple repetition of easy answers got him in an answering rhythm.” Dorothea smirked. “Hubie isn’t as clever as he thinks.”

Ferdinand inched forward. “And?”

“I asked him what he was trying to figure out for Edelgard. He mentioned that Hapi girl from the mausoleum.”

Ferdinand bit his lip. “Well that’s…not particularly helpful. Half of Garreg Mach is talking about her.”

Dorothea adjusted her hair. “Yeah. But there was another name he mentioned.”

“Who?”

“He mentioned someone named Constance.”

Ferdinand’s brow furrowed. “Constance…Constance…” His eyes lit up. “It can’t be- but maybe…”

Dorothea rapt her foot against his shin. “Ferdie, what have I told you about leaving me in the dark?”

“Ah, my apologies.” Ferdinand rubbed at his neck. “It’s just that…I used to know a girl named Constance. Hubert would have as well. She was the heir of house Nuvelle. When it collapsed years ago, she vanished.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “I had heard rumor that she had moved to Fhirdiad’s royal school of sorcery, but…” A frown drooped onto his face. “No, it couldn’t be. This Hapi girl lives in Abyss, Constance would never allow herself down there.”

“Situations change, Ferdie.” Dorothea clasped her hands together. “I got the sense that Hubie thought this Constance and Hapi were linked.”

Ferdinand stared down. “We all learned of Hapi well after Edelgard grew so downcast. I doubt there is a connection.”

“Yeah, but it’s the only lead we’ve got.” Dorothea crossed her arms. “Hubie’s been running around all month on some mission or another. Whatever it is, his class skipping came on just when Edelgard fell into her slump. There’s got to be a connection. If this Constance girl you mentioned is part of some sort of political-” Dorothea’s eyes narrowed. “Didn’t Nuvelle fall as part of the war with Brigid and Dagda?”

Ferdinand’s lips thinned. “It was well after the Insurrection. That would mean Father-“ He bit his lip. “That the Seven would likely be involved.”

Dorothea frowned. “Then that might mean this all leads to some sort of conspiracy? Fallen houses, a girl who can control monsters, and Edelgard still won’t say a word about anything.”

Ferdinand bit his cheek and then nodded. “Yes. You’re correct. This is our only lead.” He stood, dusting his uniform off. “I will venture into the Abyss and try to find this Constance character-if she is even there. Then if she is the girl I remember, I can-“

“You?” Dorothea stood, leaning on the table. “Listen jerk, I’m just as much a part of this as your noble self. I’m going down to Abyss, same as you.”

“But-“

“No buts!” Dorothea, rapt on the table. “I’m just as capable as you, and don’t even try to say that you’re trying to protect my virtue. I grew up in streets worse than Abyss, I know what to look out for.” She let out a scoff. “If anything, you’d just fall into a honeypot and I’d have to go rescue you.”

Ferdinand looked to offer a retort, but sighed in defeat. “Tomorrow night, then.”

Dorothea nodded, and the two picked themselves up and walked out of the library.

* * *

Cyril grunted as he finally exited the stairwell. Stupid lady. His foot was going to be sore for the rest of the day. Still, he had work to do. And afterwards…

He gripped the book in his hand as someone rushed up the stairs. One of the real important students if he had to guess. She had color in her uniform and everything. Oh well, it wasn’t his problem.

“Hey!” a familiar voice shouted. Cyril turned, and a familiar pair of pink eyes came running out of the gardens. “Hey, Cyril! Did you see Edelgard just now?”

Cyril blinked. “I saw another girl with white hair- is that Edelgard?”

Lysithea brightened. “Yes! Where did she go?”

He pointed backwards. “She was rushing up the stairs. Seemed like she was in a real hurry.”

Lysithea opened her mouth, before letting out a sigh. “I can’t believe she’s still avoiding me.”

“Why? What happened?”

“It’s- it’s just-“ Lysithea looked away. “Nothing. Just…nothing you need to worry about.”

Cyril didn’t really get it. If it was so important, how come Lysithea said it was nothing-

Oh. Maybe this was that noble drama thing Lady Rhea had warned him about. Best to steer clear, and just offer a shoulder to cry on. That was what Lady Rhea had recommended, along with a string of swearing under her breath.

“Do you need any help?” Cyril asked. “Lady Rhea says it’s important to ask.” Lysithea shook her head.

“No. I just-“ Something caught in Lysithea’s voice. “Actually, Cyril, could I ask you a question?”

“Sure, anything.”

“If you were-“ Lysithea bit her lip. “If you were given the chance to change your life for the better, but it just seemed too good, would you take it?”

Cyril frowned. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” Lysithea bit her lip, and pushed Cyril aside, settling down in a bench in the western garden, just across from the classrooms. “I’ve been looking for- for a solution to a…problem. For the last few years. And now a solution has just appeared in front of me. I don’t know what to make of it.”

Cyril quirked his brow. “So, what, you’re frustrated that you didn’t get to find this solution?”

“No, no, no. No!” Lysithea huffed. “I just-it’s just I’ve been handed this treatment so suddenly, that-“ She took a few breaths. “I-I don’t know what to do. I know I should take it, but…” Another sigh. “I just don’t know.”

Cyril was hesitant. “This is…Is this about noble…stuff? Is that why it’s so messy?”

Lysithea bit her lip and nodded.

“And…Edelgard was her name, right?” Lysithea nodded again. “What’s she got to do with this?”

“She…” Lysithea hesitated. “She’s…She knows about a…similar problem. And I want to know what she thinks. But she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Cyril bit his lip. “Have you tried talking to a professor or something? I always talk to Lady Rhea whenever I’m in trouble.” Though he hadn’t seen her for the last few days. Oh well. Probably nothing, just their schedules not lining up.

Lysithea sighed. “It’s- well. The professors- I guess.”

Cyril hummed. “Well…I think you might just need some time to think things through. And I’ll do what I can to help you, whatever you need.”

Lysithea smiled, bright as candlelight. “Thanks Cyril. You’re the best pupil I could ask for.”

He felt a heat flash in his cheeks, and looked away. “Y-yeah. No problem.”

Her eyes darted downward. “Oh? Is that the book you want me to teach you now?”

Cyril stood up quickly, clutching the book. “Y-yeah. Anyway, I actually gotta go do some work at the stables, and, uh. Shovel.”

Lysithea’s nose wrinkled. “Oh. Well. Sorry about that.”

“It’s no problem. Someone’s got to do it.” Cyril flashed an awkward smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay!” Lysithea waved back. “At least I’ll have some peace and quiet with Claude dragged away…”

* * *

Arundel seethed. “That will be all.” Cornelia’s scowling, still mispainted face and Solon’s bandaged skull vanished from his mirror, leaving Arundel alone with his anger.

Nothing. They had nothing against this new professor who still held all of the cards. They couldn’t fire off a javelin at Garreg Mach thanks to the thrice damned magic Sothis had created so many eons ago, and they were still months away from consolidating all power in the empire. The twice accursed archbishop now had full knowledge of their base of operations, and could easily summon a host to escort her underground before she transformed and ravaged Shamballa. Worse yet, the Sword of the Creator was in the hands of this Byleth, who seemed fully proficient and quite ready to use it against them. And at any minute, it could all come crashing down.

There were scant positives. As Arundel he was politically untouchable. Cornelia seemed safe. For now.

And those were all the positives. Arundel had no choice. He would have to find some way to relocate resources that had been so painstakingly built over generations in a few short months, at best. He could only hope it was not already too late to act-

“Lord Thales!” A mage teleported into his room, panting and exhausted.

“WHAT!” Arundel shouted, anger getting the best of him. “WHAT NOW?”

The mage cowed back. “Y-your lordship, someone has appeared in Shambala! They’re slaughtering everyone! Men, women, slaves! Nothing we’ve done can stop-!”

Arundel snapped his fingers and appeared in Shambala’s throne room. It seems he acted to slowly, but he would not allow his home to fall without a fight. If the brat had predicted a self-destruction, he would give it to her. All he needed was to overload the Vis-

The doors to the throne room flew open with a crash. Arundel turned; his eyes wide. A mage stumbled into view, bloody and broken, gasping for breath. Arundel raised his hands, magic churning. A fist flew out of the darkness, crushing the mage’s skull against a wall. Arundel felt his heart race, as he prepared to meet his doom. He had acted too late. The Archbishop in all her monstrous strength and fury, was here, along with that damned Nabataean girl from nowhere with the freakish Crest that the Agarthans had rightfully mastered!

But now it was all over. It was too late to start the self-destruct sequence. All Arundel could do was wait for one of the freaks to show their abnormal, monstrous green hair and pray he managed to leave a scar.

Instead, a pair of red eyes glowed in the darkness, burning through the shadows. Their owner slowly stepped forward into the light, eclipsing the mage who still gurgled on, somehow alive.

A behemoth of a man emerged, illuminated by the faint blue glow of Shamballa’s ever-present power stations. His hair was pale and grey, running down his face like old stone falling down the quarry hills. His skin was sunken onto his bones, almost emaciated, but with enough muscle to show a strength unparalleled. The breath escaping this man was slow and shallow, but cut out every other noise in the room.

The red eyes flared, and an intellect shone through. The behemoth paused, recognizing something in Arundel.

“ **Blood.** ” His voice was deep and commanding, falling like broken glass. His hand flashed, And the Crest of Flames burst forth. **“I demand bloody tribute.** ”

Arundel fell to his knees. “At once, King Nemesis.”

The broken mage in his hand gurgled once more, and then never again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to [Dox](https://paradoxsage.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!
> 
> Sorry for the delay, I had a bug for an Elder Scrolls fic that wouldn’t go away. If you're [ curious, here's the link.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685268/)
> 
> Also that debate and weekend chaos thew me out of whack, part of why this is later then usual. If you’re in the USA remember to register and vote.
> 
> But back on track. Did someone order a competent villain? Ladies, Gentlemen, and everyone in between, meet the Sephiran to our Oliver. The Giovanni to our team rocket, The Jerry to our Tom.
> 
> Cornelia seemed like a villain I might have been able to take seriously, or as much as anyone can with her ridiculous costume, but then she made that face and no matter what she did she was the same as all the rest of the clowns. 
> 
> So what was the in-universe explanation for Edelgard wearing the flame emperor armor when chatting to Arundel? Also why were they outside? Had the devs not finished making the rave dungeon when they were rendering the scene? More things we will never know.
> 
> Till next time and thanks for all the views!


	20. Land of the Golden Deer and What Lies Beneath part 1

**2 nd of the Verdant Rain Moon**

Claude was still unsure how the day was supposed to have made sense. His ears were still ringing from Count Gloucester and Goneril’s shouting match.

Duke Riegan had forced Claude to sit in on the roundtable twice before, but that had been at a distance, pretending to be an aide. This time, his grandfather had forced Claude to play his mouthpiece, up close and personal, with no chance to duck out or stare at the wallpaper when things got tedious.

It had begun so simply. Claude had entered the meeting chamber, a modestly decorated room with a large table surrounded by portraits any true-blooded member of the Leicester Alliance would recognize. Claude thought he could maybe name two of them. He blamed his Almyran education, which labeled them all cowards who wouldn’t leave their castle walls for a real fight like real warriors. Count Ordelia, a short balding man with light purple hair, had been sharing a quiet laugh with Margrave Edmund, a man with oily turquoise hair and who wore dark merchant robes with a prominent Seiros pendant. Something about a woman, a duck and floating wood. Count Gloucester, the spitting image of what Lorenz would look like in twenty years with the same haircut, had politely offered to serve Duke Riegan a bergamot tea, which Claude’s grandfather had graciously accepted, saying the medication for his illness needed something to force it down. Harold Goneril, a bald man with a polished pink mustache and Hilda’s fashion sense had surprised Claude (though no one else seemed shocked) by showing up in Duke Holst’s stead, explaining that his son had an unfortunate accident with a rake and would be unable to make the meeting.

Claude cleared his throat, smiled, and called the room to order. The roundtable started with what should have been a quibble over late grain shipments from House Ordelia. The count hemmed and hawed before blaming it on banditry. Count Gloucester said he was too busy dealing with overly ambitious minor nobles spurred by a lull in Almyran raids to patrol the roads. Goneril had shrugged and said he didn’t have the men to spare from the Throat lest said Almyran raids start up again. All eyes turned to Claude and he responded with a cheery demeanor no one believed, and the indisputable fact that none of the routes in question crossed Riegan territory. Margrave Edmund demanded a lower price for the next shipment of grain along with a refund for the currently below standard shipment. Count Ordelia squawked, refusing to pay the price for something that wasn’t his fault. Goneril objected, loudly. On and on it went. The roundtable had earned its name, but refused to take a hint and sit down. Duke Riegan coughed, and gave Claude an eye.

Claude spoke up and asked who was going to take charge of eliminating the bandits, the source of the problem. Count Ordelia scoffed, saying the attacks had been far from his territory and as such were not his responsibility. Goneril quoted decades-old precedent that put blame on whoever sent the goods. Count Ordelia countered with a century-old precedent blaming whoever let bandits fester. Count Gloucester blamed Lord Acheron, the weathervane himself. But then Margrave Edmund revealed that the little toad just _happened_ to be in Derdriu, and was found, dragged into the meeting room, and questioned with what Claude could only characterize as orchestrated speed. After half an hour of Counts Edmund and Ordelia waving contracts at everyone, Count Gloucester flashing what were supposed to be subtle looks to the little toad, and Claude badly pretended to be impartial mediator, Acheron was set to crack.

And then the rock stupid twat brought up the bootstrap argument.

Claude wasn’t sure how Acheron had learned about the damned thing. He was quite certain all the lords had sworn to never speak of it again. But the cat was out of the bag now, and the room very nearly exploded. Goneril’s cheeks swelled and his face turned cherry red. Margrave Edmund started shouting about defecting to the kingdom. Counts Gloucester and Ordelia were seconds away from strangling each other, convinced only the other could have let the secret slip. Duke Riegan was somehow dragging out desperate, empty promises from the human shaped weathervane with nothing more than a stare and a twitching eyebrow.

It took fifteen minutes for Claude to drag Acheron out alive and in one piece while the roundtable cooled their heads, a task not made any easier by Count Gloucester threatening to hunt down Acheron with Thyrsus. It took another hour for everyone to agree to hire the Golden Deer to clear out the roads, Count Gloucester dragging his feet the most. Something about local monsters being dangerous for Lorenz- whatever it was made Duke Riegan seethe, muttering something about Claude’s deceased uncle. Claude had heard how the former heir had died, but never directly from his grandfather, and figured it would be a subject best left untouched. The schedule was already full of contentious issues, and another would only weaken his position.

Then Claude had made the mistake of looking at the list of things the roundtable still had to discuss today. His groan was no louder than a whisper, but he could still feel every pair of eyes turn towards him. It wasn’t even noon.

Count Gloucester seized his chance and blamed Riegan leadership. Duke Riegan would not abide the slight, and glared at Claude.

Claude didn’t want to waste any more time on chest-pounding.

Duke Riegan would not allow his heir easy things.

In the end, their grandfather and son not-shouting match wasted another twenty minutes.

He wasn’t sure when the meeting finally ended, but from the position of the stars and the moon, Claude guessed that it was nearly midnight. He sat next to his grandfather in a charming little balcony atop the Riegan mansion, idly picking at some food. And Duke Riegan, the smug prick, had the nerve to sit there with Count Ordelia, a greasy prick, eating and drinking as if they hadn’t just come out of one of the most exhausting wastes of time anyone had ever had to endure.

“So boy, I hear you enjoyed yourself?” Oh. Judith had invited herself to the table, sipping a glass of wine with a smile only someone who would never have to deal with that hell again could give.

“Ha. Ha.” Claude’s eyes narrowed. “Laugh it up now, Judith- “

“Lady Judith.” Both his grandfather and Judith said in unison. Duke Riegan didn’t even look up from his conversation with Count Ordelia.

Claude counted to three. “…Lady…Judith. But next time, you get to suffer along with me.”

Judith put down her glass. “Oh I know. But afterwards, I never have to step foot in that damn hall again. You get to spend the rest of your life running in and out of it.”

Count Ordelia made a show of snorting. “It is so good to see you Lady Judith. I had wanted for pompous windbags at the roundtable. Without your hot air, these meetings simply aren’t the same.”

Judith raised her glass. “Count Ordelia. I do so miss your gentlemanly company. I’ve been able to make do by getting things done for the alliance, so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m out of practice with my roundtable gossip.” She downed her wine in a single gulp before slamming it back down. “Are you lot still called the stone-bleeders, or do you prefer ‘the roundtable, unable’ these days?”

“I’ve grown partial to the latter.” Duke Riegan said dryly, downing his medication with a grimace.

Count Ordelia sneered. “Names I wear proudly next to what my subjects said when you were in our ranks.” He leaned back in his chair so he could look down his nose at Judith. “’Standing general, standing army, ready to bow.’”

Judith was unmoved. “I remember you deciding that you could intervene in the Hrym rebellion without official backing from the roundtable.”

“And I can’t help but recall your unofficial promises to aid me that dried up as soon as they were actually needed.” Count Ordelia spat. “Though I suppose I can only blame myself for that. Trusting someone on martial affairs who was so clearly unfit, so clearly…” The count’s eyes ground down Judith’s body, sneer growing every centimeter. Judith made no attempt to hide her gender from scornful eyes, which only seemed to bleed more venom into Count Ordelia. “… _Crestless_.”

“Hey, listen Count-“ Claude began to speak, but Judith waved her hand.

“Relax, boy.” Judith rocked back in her seat. “It’s roundtable tradition to blame others for your failings. You grow a thick skin after a while.”

Count Ordelia’s eyes narrowed. “Something you have not grown unpracticed at in your absence from our gatherings.”

“And so, I propose we move on to the point of this meeting.” Judith kicked her feet onto the table. Claude wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be surprised by his grandfather’s lack of scolding. Perhaps even the mighty Duke Riegan had given up trying to deal with Judith. “How’s Lysithea doing?”

“I will not-“ Ordelia’s eyebrows rose. “Are you threatening my daughter? I should have you skewered for such an-“

“Please, Ordelia. Some of us have morals.” Judith crossed her arms and looked directly into Count Ordelia’s eyes. “It’s just that there are these odd rumors floating about. Something to do with her Crests.”

“What about my daughters Crests- “ Count Ordelia’s tongue slipped. “What- I- what about her Crest?”

“Not Crest. Crests. Two.” Judith said. “Spy networks pick up the oddest things.”

Count Ordelia stared. His eyes turned to Claude, before he seemed to shake himself, and snapped back to Duke Riegan. “What is your threat? What do you want?”

Duke Riegan’s voice was calm and measured, pausing as he ate vegetables. “I threaten nothing and no one. Lady Judith has been assisting me with our intelligence operations.” He paused again to set down his utensils, looking at Count Ordelia with a quiet sternness. “Your house’s tragic loss of children those short few years past came up.” Duke Riegan subtly leaned forward, looming down on a man of equal height. “The empire is responsible, correct?”

Count Ordelia went very still, his stare unblinking. He licked his suddenly very chapped looking lips. “…I…They made me swear not to tell. Or they would…” Count Ordelia swallowed.

Duke Riegan nodded with a solemn dignity. “I know the pain of losing children, count. Your suffering is my own.”

Count Ordelia’s face tore. Claude turned to look at Judith. She had removed her feet from the table, now sitting in a quiet and composed manner. Claude opened his mouth, but Judith just shook her head.

After a few minutes of silence, Count Ordelia composed himself and spoke again. “Why are you telling me this?”

Duke Riegan nodded at Judith. Count Ordelia’s head turned. Judith put forth an air of quiet importance. “Our spies have received word that a similar fate has befallen the imperial throne.”

Count Ordelia’s eye widened. “That illness that swept through their royal family- but it couldn’t have- “

Claude coughed, drawing the count’s attention. “Princess Edelgard has pale white hair. I didn’t think much of it at first, but…” He let his words drag out as his eyes glanced towards Count Ordelia’s dark purple hairline.

Count Riegan appraised Claude through his spectacles before continuing. “Furthermore, we have good information that the empire is planning to enter a state of war. And I can promise you, your daughter will not be the only…” Duke Riegan bit his lip. “… _Crestless_ child if they have their way.”

Count Ordelia swallowed, and his knuckles whitened. “I-“ his breath caught, and he leaned into the table, and began to exhale slowly. Finally, he looked up at Duke Riegan, his face at once a mess and fully composed. The words fell from his lips:

“I understand.”

Count Ordelia stumbled off, a tremble in his step. Even Derdriu’s waterways seemed silent. Claude bit his lip, feeling something form on his tongue, but crumble in the same breath.

“Well.” Duke Riegan sniffed, and took a sip from his glass. “Today was a success.”

Claude would have collapsed if he were not already sitting. “Really?”

“Yes.” Duke Riegan poured himself another glass. “You performed adequately at the roundtable. We now have a day to rest while Count Gloucester and Goneril nurse their hangovers, and I know Ordelia well enough to say that he will come to our conclusion in that time. On the fourth we will present our case.”

“What if Ordelia talks before then? He-“

Duke Riegan snorted. “-Knows better.”

“Huh,” Claude reached across the table to pick up the wine bottle, before his grandfather smacked it away. “Hey, ow!”

“That is medication for my medication, boy. Get your own.”

Claude gave a long-suffered stare to Duke Riegan, who did not budge. He turned to Judith, but she had already picked up the only other bottle of alcohol on the table and chugged it. Claude fell back into his chair and groaned.

“Is this what Fódlan politics is like? Secret meetings to make sure the real meetings have fraction of a chance to go smoothly? Talking out of both sides of your face? Not throwing Acheron to the nearest pack of hungry wolves?”

“There are some days I truly believe I left the roundtable voluntarily.” Judith kicked her feet back onto the table. “Get used to it boy. This is going to be the rest of your life.”

“Ugh.” Claude tried to smother his face. “Oh. Wait.” He made an effort to straighten his posture and almost succeeded. “Did you two get my letter? About Edelgard’s weird mood?”

“Yes.” Judith said. “How that girl really fits into all of this is a puzzle. I doubt anyone would be much happy with what was done to her family. There may be some strings to pull in our favor.”

“Lady Judith is correct. It is yet another point we will discuss in the next roundtable, and some of our spies in Garreg Mach will be returning their reports by tomorrow.” Duke Riegan poured himself another glass. “Only fools rush in to the dark blindly. We will not be caught unaware at this juncture.” He turned to Claude and his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Oh, and if you so much as think about showing up hungover, I will be without an heir come noontime.”

* * *

Dorothea gripped Ferdinand’s hand as the two made their way through the shadows of the sewers.

“D-Dorothea, please, It isn’t that dark, we don’t have to hold- “

“Oh hush Ferdinand. You would wander off lost without me here.” Dorothea snapped. “You won’t have anyone gossiping about holding hands with a commoner, I assure you.”

“That’s not- ugh.” Ferdinand sighed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Soon enough, the dark passageway opened up to a larger room, and hushed whispers of people echoed along the halls along with flickering candlelight. A small rundown market came into view. The stalls seemed to carry everything from old cooking equipment to faded clothing, and even a stall carrying stale-smelling bread. People moved slowly, not seeming to pay any mind to the two Garreg Mach students in their midst, save for one scruffy looking man whose eyes followed the duo’s every step. Dorothea watched Ferdinand make a point not to keep eye contact.

“I don’t like this.” He muttered. “This place gives off a dark aura- “

“Hey, mister!” a child wearing old clothes and a faint sheen of grime bound into Ferdinand, quickly grabbing hold of Ferdinand’s empty hand. “Who are you? Watchya doing down here? You’re a student, right?”

“W-well, yes I- “

“Sorry kid, can’t help you.” Dorothea shot look. Ferdinand’s brow wrinkled.

“Dorothea, I know what I said, but there is no reason to be so rude-“

“Yeah, your girlfriend’s a big meanie!” The child said hotly. “I just came to say hello to you two, and already she’s trying- “

“Your hand is halfway into Ferdie’s wallet.” Dorothea deadpanned. Ferdinand’s head swiveled downward, just in time to catch the child’s hand halfway out of his pocket. A nervous grin crept its way onto the child’s face.

“Sorry, it’s just I’ve got this habit-“

“Scram!” Dorothea shouted, and the child disappeared into the dark alleys.

“…You figured out his plan in a few seconds?”

“It’s what you do when you don’t know magic or have a Crest like me and you.”

“You seem…well versed in this.”

Dorothea snorted. “I very nearly was that kid. Come on.”

Ferdinand opened his mouth, and then shut it. “Is that why It feels like you and Hubert keep robbing me blind?”

Dorothea smiled in the gloom. “A lady never tells.” She then tugged Ferdinand away. As the two walked further into the makeshift town, more noise began to echo through the halls. Dozens of people made their way through the streets, some young, some old, and always poor. Some eyed Ferdinand with suspicion, others eyed Dorothea with a look she had long learned to ignore. The two found themselves at a crossroads, a quiet herd bustling between stalls and small passageways.

“Well, we’re here.” Dorothea said as she looked around. “Any idea how to find this Constance girl?”

“Unfortunately not. I can’t imagine any place down here she’d want to be seen in, much less live near.” Ferdinand chewed his lip. “Constance was always a bit…”

“Stuck up?”

Ferdinand frowned. “Well bred.”

Dorothea scoffed. “Same thing, really.” She sniffed, and her head turned. “I know that smell.”

Ferdinand tasted the air, before covering his nose with a handkerchief. “That’s- It couldn’t possibly be alcohol.”

“But it is.” Dorothea gripped his hand. “Come on. A bar should be a good place to collect information.”

As the smell of cheap spirits grew, so did a quiet murmur passing through the halls. The sparse candlelight became brighter, until the two passed a mess of bricks and broken mortar and entered a surprisingly clean brewery. A number of patrons sat milled about amongst each other, with what looked like a few games of chance being played in a corner. Brass brewing vats were polished to gleam in the candlelight, though the smell of the beer being brewed suggested more than a little of the metal polish had found its way inside the vats.

Dorothea looked around. “I don’t see a girl with blue and blond- have I ever told you that nobles have the most bizarre hair colors? Are you certain she didn’t dye her hair?”

“Positive.” Ferdinand rubbed his nose. Dorothea imagined it was to keep it from curling. “We should ask the barkeep if he knows anything.”

A few heads turned as the two made their way to the bartender, though no one stood. A few eyes lingered on Dorothea as she passed. At the countertop, Ferdinand rapped his hand on the wood gently but firmly. The bartender, who had been cleaning beer mugs, looked up. “Hey.” He eyed Ferdinand, turned to Dorothea, and lingered.

Dorothea felt Ferdinand’s fingers grow rigid. “The cad. Can he truly sink so- “

“Focus.” Dorothea smiled at the bartender. “Hello mister! How’s your brew?”

“Fine, just fine.” The bartender’s eye finally flickered back to Ferdinand. “So daddy cut you off?”

“I-I beg your pardon?”

“It’s the only reason kids like you wander down here. The run out of money for the smuggled booze topside, so they come down for the cheaper stuff.” The bartender sniffed. “So how much you got?”

Ferdinand coughed into his hand. “I-I’m actually not looking to purchase beer, or anything else for that matter. I’m- “

The bartender turned back to his mugs. “Can’t help you.”

“Excuse me sir, but if you would only listen- “

“Ferdie, shut up.” Dorothea pushed him aside. “Look mister. Ferdie has some coin, and he’d be willing to slip it over the table if you’d just help us find someone.”

“Well, now.” The bartender turned back to the two, still wiping down a mug. “I do see a lot of people pass by. Who’re you looking for?”

Ferdinand smiled, looking encouraged. “She’s a young girl, about my age- “

“Nope.” The bartender looked back down at his mugs, picking up another to clean. “Every noble in a thousand-mile radius is looking for that girl. You’re out of your league, kids.”

“What? No, we aren’t looking for the worm girl!” Ferdinand pleaded. “I’m looking for Constance von Nuvelle! Have you seen her?”

“Eh.” The bartender shrugged. “I see a lot of people.”

“Yes, but have you seen-“

“Ferdinand.” Dorothea elbowed his ribs.

Ferdinand opened his mouth, closed it, pulled out a reasonable sum of gold, and slid it to the bartender who quickly pocketed the money.

“Your boyfriend is pretty well trained, girly. Ever think of renting him out? I could use some hands that don’t have the shakes down here.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Dorothea said evenly. Ferdinand nodded. Dorothea smiled at the bartender. “He’s my coin-purse.” Ferdinand slumped.

“Heh.” The bartender smiled back. “Never heard of a Constance.”

“But…” Ferdinand bit his lip. “Perhaps she’s using another name. She has very distinctive hair color- blonde and blue. Have you seen anyone…?”

The bartender shrugged. “I see a lot of people with weird hair. Bastard children of inbred nobles.”

Dorothea kept her pleasant smile. “Maybe you just need a little something to jog your memory.”

“Maybe.” The bartender’s hand slid across the table, inching towards Dorothea. “Want to make me an offer?”

"Ferdie has a few more coins."

The bartender leaned closer. "Money only goes so far. My memory needs something more...visceral."

“Well…” Dorothea’s fingers curled her hair as she bashfully looked away. “I am very concerned- “

“Dorothea!” Ferdinand shouted. “You cannot possibly be considering- Ack!“

“I know what I’m doing, _Ferdinand_.” Dorothea hissed out of the side of her mouth as she ground her boot over his toes, before turning back to smile at the barkeep. “Well, mister, I can’t help but think what you’re asking for should be done in private.”

The bartender snorted a laugh. “Sure kid. But do you know what you’re getting into? I’m going to need something…rough.”

“Really?” Dorothea rested a finger on her lip. “Like what? I’d just do anything to help Ferdie find his friend…”

The bartender bent towards Dorothea, stopped to look at Ferdinand who was glaring daggers, smirked, and then whispered his demand loud enough for both to hear.

“Oh,” Dorothea blinked as innocently as she could. “I suppose-“

There was a loud thwack, and the bartender crashed into the back wall, unconscious.

“Brute! Cur! How dare you ask that of a young lady!” Ferdinand shouted; his fist outstretched. “By all the saints and the goddess! I have never heard an act so foul!”

Dorothea breathed in, then out. The shouts and rustling from the patrons behind them was already starting. “Ferdinand.”

He blinked. “Yes, Dorothea?”

“You’re an idiot.”

Bottles flew through the air, and Dorothea dived behind the countertop. The drunken patrons shouted and hollered, thrashed and crashed, bludgeoned and brawled. A few of the more sober men attacked Ferdinand, the reason they wouldn’t be able to buy alcohol for the rest of the night, while others defended the nobleman, the reason they wouldn’t have to buy alcohol for the rest of the night. Then the gamblers bought in, and the drunkards found themselves caught in the middle.

* * *

Dorothea had always found the time altering effects of alcohol odd. Not just when under the influence, but also when you were surrounded by drunk people. She was clutching a chair leg, having knocked a man unconscious moments ago, and entirely uncertain how she had gotten to where she was. Ferdinand stood beside her, wielding a broomstick. Around them, a drunken brawl raged.

“Not to worry, Dorothea. I shall not allow any of these brutes to harm you.” Ferdinand said with a smile. “Though I did not intend for this evening to become so chaotic, I shudder to think what would have happened had that scoundrel at the bar had his way.”

Dorothea’s eyes narrowed. “Ferdinand, you moron. You ruined everything.”

His face drooped. “W-what?”

“The bartender wasn’t going to lay a finger on me!” Dorothea shouted. “We were going to go into a backroom, he would let his guard down, and then I would beat the answers out of the pig! What the hell do you think was going to happen?”

“I-but-“

Dorothea paused to knock another drunk unconscious. “But nothing! I’ve been dealing with men like him for over a decade. I don’t need you to pretend to be my knight in shining armor!”

“But you deserve more, Dorothea! I can’t let scoundrels like him just-“

“Oh please, you’re only interested in protecting us fragile, _common_ woman because Professor Byleth humiliated you at the start of the year!” Dorothea barked out a laugh over Ferdinand’s protest. “I’ve long since learned to deal with men like him. And he’s far from the worst offender. He could have been a noble.”

Ferdinand’s brow curled. “Why do you hate the nobility- “

“HEY!” A voice bellowed, and the bar fight halted. Everyone looked up. A man with slicked back hair, an open shirt, and the muscles to go along with it stood at the bar’s doorway, surveying the damage. “Who started this?”

All fingers pointed at Dorothea and Ferdinand. The man laughed. “It’s been a while since a student stirred up this much trouble.” He rolled his neck, cracked his knuckles, and stepped forward. “I’ll be sure to make this quick.”

**To Be Continued - >**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned into a monster, so stay tuned. Part two should be up within a week. But while we're here at chapter 20, thanks to everyone for 569 kudos, 113 bookmarks, and 14K views! I'll keep at it!
> 
> As always, thanks to [Dox](https://paradoxsage.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!
> 
> Misogyny and politics are the words of the day for part one and two of this chapter. I'll hope to stick the landing next part.
> 
> There is a great scene in chapter 55 of TheScreamingViking’s N7 SOLDIER where the Shinra executives just scream at each other as their world collapses around them. Part 1 if this chapter is a tribute/inspired by/blatantly stolen from that scene. I believe the technical term is Homage.


	21. Land of the Golden Deer and What Lies Beneath part 2

“Alright, listen punks, you’ve got five seconds to explain yourselves, before things get rough.” The man with the long coat and bare chest said as he cracked his neck.

“Please, we- “ Ferdinand started.

“Times up!” The man shouted.

“Hey, wait-!” Dorothea shouted, but the man was already charging at Ferdinand, fists raised. Ferdinand raised his broomstick to try and defend, but the man’s fists slipped through. Ferdinand staggered back, barely keeping steady. The man pushed forward for a second strike, but Dorothea shot a bolt of lightning, forcing him to retreat.

“Look, we don’t want to fight, but if you people keep forcing the issue, I’ll have no choice!” Dorothea summoned magic glyphs in a show of force. Ferdinand regaining his footing, and did his best to appear threatening with a broomstick. The man just smirked.

“Come on, girl. We both know that magic you’ve got won’t hurt anyone, least of all me.” He placed his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest. “Come on, ladies first. I’ll let you get a good shot in Come on, do- “

The barrage of light sped through the air, striking the man’s bare chest. The Sagittae spell struck true, littering the man’s bare chest with cuts. “YOWCH!”

“There’s more where that came from, jerk. Back off.” Dorothea said as she prepared another spell.

“I agree, this farce has gone on long enough.” A new voice drifted into Dorothea’s ear, from where Ferdinand had been standing. Dorothea turned to see Ferdinand frozen in place, a blade pressed to his neck. A boy with purple hair and cold eyes, held a short sword almost casually, unconcerned with Ferdinand as he studied Dorothea. “Drop it, or your boy toy is going to stay underground forever.”

Dorothea swallowed, eyes darting back to Ferdinand. He looked at her with a still panic, frozen with fear or some magic spell. The boy adjusted his blade, pressing the tip against skin, ready to pierce at a moment’s notice. “I’m waiting.”

The magic in Dorothea’s hand faded into nothing and her dropped her chair leg, and raised her hands over her head. “Alright, alright! Just let Ferdi go!”

The boy lowered his sword, before shoving Ferdinand down onto the floor, who gasped for air.

“Geez Yuri, you didn’t have to be that harsh.” The man Dorothea had shot said as he cast his own magic, healing over his wounds.

“Balthus, my temper has been cut short with every nobleman from here to Almyra bothering us. These two are lucky I didn’t feel like following through.” The newly dubbed Yuri rolled his eyes.

“Were not hear for that girl! We’re looking for Constance!” Ferdinand gasped out. Yuri eyebrow rose.

“Really? Who’s she to you?” Balthus asked.

“S-she’s my friend! I just learned that she might be living in Abyss, and came looking for her!” Ferdinand stammered.

“I see.” Yuri turned to Dorothea. “And you are…?”

“Here to keep the idiot out of trouble.”

Yuri looked over the room. “And this…?”

“The idiot took offense to something the bartender said to me.”

Yuri looked across the bar counter. Its tender was still knocked out unconscious. “Ah. I wondered how much longer he would last. I’ll be sure to pass it along to the owner. Balthus, bring the two students along. They have a friend to meet.”

Balthus picked up Ferdinand, hooking their arms together. He grinned, and offered his other to Dorothea. She rolled her eyes and fell in line behind Yuri, who led the group through a twist of corridors and hallways before finally arriving in a small meeting room, lit with a few candles and full of chairs and tables. Yuri sat down in one, and Balthus placed Ferdinand in another. Yuri looked at Dorothea, and gestured to another chair.

She swallowed. “I’ll stand.”

Yuri gave a small shrug. “Balthus, go get Constance.” Balthus gave a quick salute, and left even quicker. Yuri’s eyes turned to Ferdinand and Dorothea, silently blinking between the two.

“So…” Dorothea started. “You’re in charge down here?”

“More or less.” Yuri sniffed. “I wasn’t aware an Aegir would allow himself to be seen down here.”

Ferdinand sniffed. “I would never allow a young lady to venture down into the unknown by herself, and it is a noble’s duty to see if a friend is in need.”

“How _noble_.” Yuri let the word roll around his tongue. “In any case, here you go.”

“-And I must say, Balthus this is most- Oh!” A young woman entered into the room, moving with the forced grace Dorothea saw many noble women practice. She wore clothes unusually clean from what Dorothea had seen of Abyss, with barely a speck of dirt to be seen on her long grey dress, and corset. The girl’s hair was a short cut of blond hair, and it did indeed have a blue- no, now that Dorothea saw it, the girl had a purple coloring on the exterior of her hair, which was combed neatly.

“Is that…It is! Constance von Nuvelle!” Ferdinand jumped out of his seat, before bowing. “It is I, Ferdinand von Aegir!”

“Ferdinand! Oh dear me, it has been so long!” Constance curtsied back, giving a loud grating laugh Dorothea had often heard from noblewomen trying too hard. “Forgive my ungainly appearance, I have had no time to prepare myself.”

“Think nothing of it, Constance. You will always look radiant.” The two shared a truly obnoxious laugh together. It was almost like they were in synch. Ferdinand hardly needed the encouragement, and so Dorothea moved to stand and introduce herself, lest the two get any ideas.

“Hi. I’m Dorothea.” She said with a smile. “I hear you’re an old friend of Ferdinand’s?”

“Yes, exactly so!” Constance exclaimed. “I assume you are his…”

“Friend. She is my friend. Without her aid and support, I could have never learned you were at Garreg Mach.” Ferdinand said earnestly. “I owe her a great debt.”

Dorothea thought the introduction was almost charming, in a hopelessly sappy way. Constance fell for it all the same.

“Oh, how delightful! Then you to have my thanks, miss Dorothea! May I ask, how did you come to learn of me?”

“They’re chasing after Hapi’s trail.” Yuri said casually. Constance’s expression froze, before burning over.

“I- why I never! Ferdinand, you cad!”

“Constance, please-“

”-I’ve chased off a dozen pigs for my poor friend already-“

“No, you’ve got it all wrong-“

“-And I will not tolerate you, no matter our history-“

“ENOUGH!” Dorothea shouted. “We aren’t after the worm girl! She isn’t why we’re here!”

“Really! Then why are you?” Constance sneered. “That’s the only reason students come down to Abyss these days, so why-“

“Were trying to find out what Hubert is up to!” Dorothea shouted back. “For some reason he knows you, and we need to know why!”

Constance’s expression became inscrutable. “Hubert? As in Hubert von Vestra?”

Ferdinand nodded. “Yes, the very same.”

Constance scowled. “Then he is undoubtedly plotting something with Hapi- his family has always been schemers. I-“

“It isn’t like that!” Ferdinand said quickly. “Well- while I admit something may be afoot, it started long before this Hapi girl made herself known.”

“Really?” Constance quirked her brow. “Whatever for? And why are you so concerned? The Vestra family is always up to no good.”

“Look, Hubert is our friend.” Dorothea said. Ferdinand nodded. “And right now, he’s been suspiciously absent from class and the academy. And…” Dorothea huffed. “He’s really close to Edelgard, and right now she’s acting really lost.”

Constance’s eyes widened. “The princess?”

“Our friend.” Ferdinand said quietly.

“Right. And then I overheard Hubert mention your name when he was muttering to himself, and Ferdinand told me your story, we had to wonder…”

“….If there was something more going on in the empire.” Yuri finished. Dorothea nearly jumped when the boy spoke- he had all but faded into the shadows.

“I see.” Constance’s brow furrowed. “I can’t say I know much more then you. But you say that you’re trying to help Princess Edelgard?”

Ferdinand nodded. “Exactly so. Perhaps we can go over some details? Anything you could offer would help.”

“Of course! By the honor of house Nuvelle, it is my duty to aid the princess!” Constance beamed. “And when we succeed in curing the princess’ woe, she will be so grateful that she shall restore my noble house to its proper glory!”

“That’s the spirit!” Ferdinand shouted happily. As the two nobles began to chat, Dorothea turned to Yuri, who was watching the scene intently. “Why did you say we were after Hapi?”

He turned to look at Dorothea. “It’s all anyone’s been after in Abyss recently.”

“Oh, that’s right- Yuri!” Constance shouted. “Didn’t you say Hubert was skulking about Abyss recently? It’s why I warned Hapi off him, you know.”

“He was wandering about every few weeks, along with a smattering of a few other students. Haven’t seen him since, and he never stopped to chat.” Yuri said casually. Almost too casually for Dorothea’s ear. His eyes seemed distant, as if they were poring over some great equation that only he could see. It was the same expression Edelgard wore far too often.

“You’re hiding something.” Dorothea accused. Yuri turned and smirked.

“Lady, everyone’s hiding something.” He turned and walked out of. the room, but stopped next to Dorothea. “Just be grateful you’re not on the wrong end of it.”

Dorothea bit her lip. “What do you know about Hubert? What was he doing here?”

Yuri shrugged. “Why do you care? Worried about your other boytoy?” Dorothea flinched. Yuri’s eyes gleamed like a cat in the night. “Besides, I try to avoid his type. To well connected for their own good.”

* * *

**4 th of the Verdant Rain Moon**

Claude tried to hide his nerves, even as Judith sat next to him and his grandfather. Count Ordelia quietly muttered in Duke Riegan’s ear, while Count Gloucester and Margrave Edmund made idle chatter. The most important meeting of his life was about to take place, and it had all the buildup of any other day. All should go well. His grandfather had drilled what to say and when into him well enough, and Judith had plenty of experience in this field. All he needed to do was-

“Good morning, young Riegan.”

Claude looked up at Count Gloucester with a practiced smile. “Count. How was your day off?”

The Count preened. “Quite fine. My Lorenz penned me a letter discussing your life at Garreg Mach. He has been doing exceptionally, as is befitting a boy of his talent.”

Claude gave a noncommittal hum. “Nice to hear he has your approval.”

“Indeed. My Lorenz was also keen to tell me about the progress he had made in courtship.” Count Gloucester’s voice stopped trying to hide its smug affectation. “He has already made contact with the girl who can control monsters, and countless others. One way or another, my Lorenz will be making a very powerful woman very happy.”

“Good on Lorenz.” And pity on the women. “Though I always see him tutoring Leonie…” Claude shrugged.

Count Gloucester’s eyes brightened. “Leonie? As in Leonie Rowe of the kingdom? An excellent choice. Though I had thought she was a year away from being accepted to Garreg Mach. Remind me, what Crest does she have?”

“Not a Rowe. No Crest.”

The Count’s smile fell. “No? Then who is this Leonie my boy has taken an interest in?”

“Leonie Pinelli.” No reaction. “She’s part of the Golden Deer.” Still nothing. “From Sauin village?”

Count Gloucester blinked, and then was back to smirking. “Ah yes, that girl! An exceptional talent, home grown in Gloucester territory! My Lorenz does well to tutor our commonfolk- I must apologize for assuming my Lorenz had purely romantic pursuits. I’m certain she will make an exceptional captain of the town guard under his tutelage.”

Claude didn’t let his eyebrow twitch, just like his grandfather had instructed him. “I’m sure-”

“I could only wish Marianne had any luck.” Margrave Edmund mused. “In all her letters, she rarely mentions her own romances. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about my daughter’s courtships, would you lad? The poor girl is so horribly shy about everything…”

Claude kept his expression politely neutral. “Well Margrave, whose name might you be listening for, and which young lad has Marianne happened to hint at?”

“Well, there is no need to be coy, lad. Marianne has-“ Margrave Edmund’s lips pursed. “Ah. Yes, I see.” He gave a polite chuckle. “No luck for you today lad. My Marianne barely mentions you.”

Claude gave a small show of his heart being broken. “You don’t have to put it so brutally, good sir.”

Margrave Edmund smirked. “Quite. Alas, the only romance Marianne does make mention of is the young lady Goneril’s. I hear Harold’s young minx has her claws in Bergliez’s second son, Gautier’s boy, and even a certain unnamed young man in the Alliance.” Margrave Edmund’s eyebrows did the best approximation of a playful wiggle a middle-aged merchant could manage.

“I’ll pass my congratulations onto the young Victor.” Hilda as a wife sounded…exhausting. Being her friend was taxing enough already.

“Ah, to be young again.” Margrave Edmund sighed wistfully. “But that girl…If only Marianne could be more like Harold’s child. I can’t understand- Marianne praises the young lady Goneril often and fondly enough, in adoring prose. She even calls Hilda her dearest, closest companion in life.” His brow furrowed. “Why can’t Marianne find someone she wishes to wed- what’s wrong?”

Judith’s foot had landed on Claude’s just in time to morph is muffled guffawing into a pained yelp. “Nothing, nothing.” Claude had no difficulty smiling through the pain. “My hand just ran over a splinter, I think.”

“While we’re on the subject, who is the apple of your eye, young Riegan?” Count Gloucester asked. “My Lorenz only ever sees you around Hilda and a few of your professors.”

“Eh, can’t say I’ve thought about that too much.” Claude said with practiced ease. “I’m thinking about enjoying my youth a bit more before settling down.”

“Your uncle was much the same, bless his soul.” Count Gloucester said with a courtly show of remorse. “But I would caution you about starting too late- all of your first picks may be snatched up by then.”

“If he’s like Tiana, he’ll go for rugged mercenary types.” Judith said with a smirk. Claude did not quite scowl. He had gotten enough of that from his mother back in Almyra, one of the positives about Fódlan was that she couldn’t butt into his lack of a love life-

“Clock’s ticking, young Riegan.” Count Gloucester. “My Lorenz has reported that he has managed to be summoned by the Ashen Demon for a private conversation. And if half the stories about the young lady are true-“

Claude felt a nausea burst up out of his gut. He wondered where the feeling had come from, before coming to the realization that combining Lorenz’s snobbery and Byleth’s almost obnoxious precognition and subtle teasing wrapped with a toddler’s energy would be far too much for even him to endure.

What if the kid called him uncle?

Claude suppressed a shiver running through his heart and kept on smiling. “I think it’s best to drop the schoolyard gossip about whose son will marry who for now- I hardly need to remind you lords how quickly young love can shift.”

“Yes, quite.” Margrave Edmund’s stiff voice interrupted. “But as your grandfather is busy-“ Duke Riegan and Count Ordelia were still engrossed in their conversation, “-Perhaps you could tell us what exactly Lady Judith is doing here.”

She snorted. “What can I say? I missed Count Gloucester’s charming personality.”

The count huffed. “I can hardly be blamed for critiquing your many faults. I even have the nerve to do it to your face.”

Judith snorted. “A toad can sit on the road or hide in the swamp, but the croaking is just as grating.”

“Well I still don’t see why you are still here-“ All noise was interrupted as the doors to the conference room were thrown open with great haste. A man in a soldier’s robes rushed into the room, not paying any mind to the assembled lords peppering him with questions. When the man reached Judith, he whispered into her ear for a few seconds, before Judith stood up and very nearly ran out of the room, the man chasing after her. Harold Goneril, who had finally arrived, was pushed aside by Judith without a word. Goneril stared after her wake, before turning and taking his seat.

Count Gloucester and Margrave Edmund wore similar expressions of confusion, though Count Gloucester’s lips curled as though the wind had turned just long enough for the harbor air to waft through the windows.

“Well!” Goneril gave a chuckle designed to set things at ease. “Not sure what that was all about, but we’re all here!”

“Harold, old friend, where is Duke Holst?” Duke Riegan polished his spectacles. “I sent a missive. He has had more than enough time to recover from whatever…injury he sustained.”

Goneril laughed. “Oh, my lad has gone and done it again. Says he got kicked by a Pegasus, mid-flight! The boy will just never learn-“

“Goneril.” Duke Riegan’s voice echoed across the room with a quiet weight. “Inform Duke Holst of my displeasure.”

The assembled lords grew still, and all studied Duke Riegan, who sat confidently in his wheelchair, staring back at them. Count Gloucester’s eyes turned back to the door Judith had exited. Goneril began to say something, but one look from Duke Riegan cut it short. Goneril swallowed and bowed his head.

“I-I-“ He swallowed again. “My deepest apologies. I’ll- next time, I will…” Goneril coughed. “My boy will learn.”

Duke Riegan nodded. “I should hope so.” His eyes turned to Claude. “Begin.”

“Oh.” Claude tugged at his collar. “T-thank you, assembled lords of the roundtable, for coming.” Everyone took their seats. Margrave Edmund stared at Claude. Count Gloucester and Goneril stared at his grandfather. Count Ordelia looked down at the floor. “I would now inform you that…” The room felt hot. “That House Riegan has received information that…that we…” Claude bit his lip, gripped his chair, and breathed. Silence reigned. And then the words came tumbling out.

“The empire is preparing for war. Against the church, we think.”

Claude braced for the storm of shouting to erupt out of the assembled lords, but none came. They all just stared- Margrave Edmund at his grandfather, Goneril and Count Ordelia studied the table with the same intensity, and Count Gloucester’s eyes darted between the two Riegans. After a minute of dreadful, oppressive silence, Claude coughed and continued. “It began when I overheard Edelgard- that is, Princess Hresvelg- argue with Hubert von Vestra. They said that they had plans to fight the church. They implied that they had a hand in the bandit attack against me and Prince Dimitri near the beginning of the school year, which you might recall.” And only wept at the bandit’s failure, Claude was tempted to say. But there was still no reaction from the roundtable.

“Some surviving bandits testified that they were hired by a man in expensive dark armor, who could teleport at will.” Claude paused for breath. “I don’t need to tell you that such magic is very powerful and rare. Something only someone with vast magical education and skill could wield, be they the man in the armor or the person casting for them. Such magic is guarded jealously, from Fhirdiad’s school of sorcery to the court of Enbarr.”

Claude looked to his grandfather, but the old man simply nodded. Claude turned back to the lords. “You’ve probably heard about the ‘Death Knight’, who attacked the Blue Lions with monsters a few months back. You might have heard that he appeared again during the Rite of Rebirth, working with the western church to try and steal artifacts from the central church. And you might have just heard that he bore the Rafail Gem. An artifact that has remained in imperial possession for over a thousand years.”

None of the lords reacted. Claude hid a swallowed breath and concluded. “These two pieces of evidence seem quite circumstantial, but house Riegan believes that given the circumstances, they signal a prelude to a total war.” Claude stole a glance with his grandfather, who quirked his eyebrow. “I would also remind the roundtable of the empire’s recent conquest of Brigid, their rebuttal to House Hrym- “ Ordelia was not the only man to flinch. “-And the kingdom’s weakened state in the wake of the tragedy of Duscur. So long as the empire stands united, it is right to think it is the strongest nation. If they strike now, they will win.”

It was as if each of the lords were carved out of stone. They looked at Claude. They looked at his grandfather. They looked at each other. But none dared to make a sound.

Duke Riegan cleared his throat, coughing slightly as he did. “Arundel’s forces have been slowly marshaling strength. Our spies have managed to uncover an information ring that has been expanding into the Alliance with connections to house Vestra. Archbishop Rhea has informed me that she has reason to believe that the Death Knight is connected to the unknown who hired the bandits to attack my grandson. She says he has dubbed himself the ‘Flame Emperor.’” Duke Riegan coughed again as he leaned back into his chair. “Finally, we have a merchant source claiming that house Hevring, the empire’s treasurers, are preparing to invest much of the empire’s purse into steel manufacturing and roadways. The stuff war is built on.”

Count Gloucester finally found his voice. “Merchant gossip? Really, Duke Riegan? Have you lost-“

“Has my information network been wrong before?” Duke Riegan quirked his eyebrow. Count Gloucester’s lips thinned.

“…This is…” Margrave Edmund’s fingers brushed against his Seiros pendant. “…It seems very circumstantial.”

“I agree.” Duke Riegan nodded. “But the tells are mounting. In a game as high stakes as international politics, we cannot afford to blink.”

The room fell silent again. Count Gloucester seemed uncharacteristically thoughtful, while Goneril’s face had become unreadable. Margrave Edmund’s fingers gripped his pendant tighter, and Count Ordelia nearly trembled. Duke Riegan sat like a regal owl, surveying them all. Claude tried to smile, to at least attempt to lighten the mood, but nothing changed.

The doors flew open, and Judith stalked through, clutching a piece of parchment. “Spies caught something big. Arundel sent a missive to Bergliez telling him that he, Prime Minister Aegir, and the emperor want to step up recruitment, and quickly.” Judith landed in her seat with a thud, hands clasped together. “Arundel apparently sent another letter and pretty face to convince Aegir that they made the decision together.”

There was another stretch of silence, before Goneril spoke up. “What of Duke Gerth and Count Varley? Any movement from their powerbase? Or is the insurrection of seven going to become five?”

“There have been no definitive movements from either house.” Duke Riegan said. Claude coughed.

“Edelgard and Hubert went to the Varley estate two months ago. They said it was to transport some old artifacts back to the church, and they did, but…” Claude drummed his fingers on the table. “House Varley controls religious affairs, so their most valuable contribution to a fight with the church is their own their religious authority.”

Margrave Edmund took a deep breath. “Anything else?”

Claude gripped his seat. “You’ve probably all heard from your children by now, but in the past month, Edel- Princess Hresvelg has grown very…detached. Distant. Actively antisocial. The only time she acts like her old self is when she’s fighting.”

“And what does…House Riegan…think her state of mind means?” Count Gloucester asked.

“Given the lack of concrete information, we are unable to draw conclusions from the princess’ behavior.” Duke Riegan replied.

Claude bit his lip. It would be very easy to let this bit of information slide into the general pile of evidence. Just another symptom of mounting pressure. But Byleth had been determined to negotiate Edelgard down to a simple civil war, and the lady had a way of getting results.

But of course, Byleth herself admitted that her efforts would not always succeed, and Claude didn’t feel that her testimony would do much to endear the roundtable, even if she was apparently chosen to wield the most important sword in the Seiros religion. A time-traveling superwoman was a bit much to sell, after all. For now Claude would hedge his bets, and see if Byleth somehow managed to deter Edelgard.

“In my personal opinion,” Claude began, drawing his grandfather’s eyebrow. “Her highness might not be as united with the seven as a warfront might suggest. They were, after all, the ones who forced her to flee her country and robbed her line of its political power.”

Goneril snorted. “What are you suggesting, boy? That she doesn’t want the war? You accused her of attempting assassination. Against you!”

“I’m saying,” Claude smiled politely. “That I think her current emotional state is connected to the empire’s new military ambitions, that it doesn’t quite fit someone who is one hundred percent on board, and that there is still quite a bit we don’t know.”

Margrave Edmund snorted. “Well, after the insurrection of the seven, anything is possible.”

“If we are quite done.” Duke Riegan coughed into his fist. “To conclude, House Riegan in partnership with house Daphnel has reason to believe the empire is preparing for open war, against the church, an institution they have been splitting from for the past five centuries. We have reason to believe they attempted to assassinate my grandson, as well as the prince of Faerghus. With all that said, is our evidence against the empire enough, or do you need more convincing?”

Goneril scoffed. Margrave Edmund rubbed the face of his Seiros pendant nervously. Count Gloucester coughed, and then spoke slowly.

“War is…expensive. If we are to meet the empire on the battlefield, both my and Count Ordelia’s lands will be in great peril. We can’t risk provoking a fight with the empire, and if what your grandson overheard is true, their main target is the church. Why should we involve ourselves in such a conflict? We-“

“NO!” Count Ordelia’s fist slammed down on the table. “We cannot allow the empire to simply have its way with the continent!” He reared up out of his seat, and looked down on Count Gloucester. “Count Gloucester, you fear imperial occupation, but I have lived it! I have seen the empire at its most callous and cruel. If we allow the empire to attack the church and its ally the kingdom, we will only prolong our own defeat!” Count Ordelia breathed in a deep, shaky breath. “I have seen what their so-called scientists will do to children. To _my_ children.” The other lords shifted uncomfortably. “If we do not act now, if we do not prepare for war, they will march into my lands once more. And the Gloucester’s. And then...” His fist trembled against the table. “My fellow lords, I beseech you. We must not waste the opportunity we have been given. We must act, as one, or be conquered, one by one.”

Count Ordelia breathed quickly. The three other lords looked amongst each other, and then nodded. “Something must be done.” Goneril said.

“We must prepare ourselves for a coming conflict.” Margrave Edmund agreed.

Count Gloucester nodded. “For the alliance and our people.”

Duke Riegan’s hand rapped against the table. “Then it is decided. Our war council is assembled. Let us discuss the broad strokes now. Firstly, what shall we tell the church and kingdom, and when.” Duke Riegan leaned forward. “The kingdom first. Grandson.”

Claude straightened. “Yes?”

“Tell us your measure of Prince Blaiddyd. What is the boy like?”

Claude blinked. “Dimitri? Isn’t his uncle ruling now?”

Everyone rolled their eyes at that. “We will no longer have to endure the drunkard after Prince Blaiddyd graduates.” Duke Riegan said.

“Thank the goddess.” Margrave Edmund muttered snidely.

“Amen.” Count Gloucester added.

“…Right.” Claude rubbed the back of his neck. “Dimitri is…straightforward, I would say. Sometimes he gets his head stuck in the clouds, but he’s an easy read. However…” Claude pressed his lips together. After Claude had told the prince about Byleth’s future knowledge, the prince had gone off to confront her, only to return to his usual routine, as if he had learned nothing. It had really been quite frustrating. “I’d say he will stick to his loyalties, above all else.”

“Much like his father, then.” Duke Riegan muttered. “Margrave Edmund, Lady Daphnel, any changes amongst the lords of the kingdom?”

“Fraldarius and Gautier continue to form the backbone of the kingdom. Most of the eastern houses stay in line, and Rowe remains the power player in the west, though it’s a bit more chaotic.” Judith said.

“There was a small noble rebellion recently- a minor lord under the Western Church’s thumb, but nothing important.” Margrave Edmund added nonchalantly. Claude hid a grimace. “The kingdom only lacks a leader of even moderate competence to follow and a few years of political reformation before it returns to its former strength.”

“Hmm.” Duke Riegan’s fingers drummed against the table. “And the church is the church…”

“I have to ask, why don’t we go on the offensive? We have a compelling case, and the empire has not mobilized yet. Surely it’s better to strike quickly, with both the kingdom and the church’s forces to draw fire away from our own?” Goneril asked.

Count Gloucester rolled his eyes. “Of course you would think that, with territory so far away from the front lines.”

“Why listen here, runt-“

“Our own forces are not properly mobilized, and the kingdom is too fractured and disorganized to provide a distraction of any worth.” Duke Riegan said between a cough. “The church lacks the martial power and the moral authority in the empire after the southern church’s dissolution- No, we will have to play this slowly.”

“Can’t we just tell the kingdom’s nobles or Archbishop Rhea that the empire plans to march on the church, and let them make the first move?” Goneril wondered aloud.

“Foolish boy. The empire would inevitably learn such a poorly kept secret, and it would lead back to us.” Gloucester scoffed. “Their armies would descend upon our lands as punishment.”

“Not if we mobilize quickly! Plus, they would be distracted by the church and kingdom’s forces- “

Count Ordelia snorted. “The imperial army? Distracted by a cadre of kingdom lords who are busy jockeying for each other’s place in Rufus’ court and half a dozen knights scattered across the kingdom to keep the peace? Bah-“

Duke Riegan knocked wood, and everybody turned. “Lady Judith. What is the current timetable for the empire’s full mobilization?”

Judith leaned forward. “It’s a bit shoddy. Our spies’ earliest projections say five months.”

The room grew a bit more still, and Duke Riegan sighed. “For now, we will focus on consolidating our own strength. I will share enough concerns with the church to keep their guard up…” His tongue clicked. “How many moles does Rufus’ court have?”

“Well, we have two separate ears in his inner circle.” Judith said.

“Hm. Yes.” Duke Riegan grit his teeth. “I will forward the relevant concerns to Lord Fraldarius, unless there are any objections- ”

“I have a parallel concern.” Count Gloucester interrupted. “If what you say is true, and there was an assassination attempt on Riegan’s heir, I will have to remove Lorenz from Garreg Mach. We all should.”

The other lords looked around at each other with uneasy faces. Duke Riegan’s brow furrowed. “Count Gloucester, that will tip our hand. If such drastic action is taken, the empire will invariably suspect our foreknowledge. We must keep our heirs in Garreg Mach-“

“Easy for you to say.” Count Gloucester sneered. “Not all of us have the fortune to find new heirs off the streets. Some of us lack the Riegan’s _promiscuity_.”

Claude thought he would never see it, but his grandfather’s face twisted into a rage. “My apologies, count. I had forgotten you have experience in placing heirs into death traps.”

Count Gloucester’s temper flared. “How dare you, old man! Godfrey was a friend of mine, I would never-“

“And I will not allow Lysithea into harm’s way again I insist we-“

“-Listen here, brats-“

“-Don’t you tell me who’s children are worth risking for a few- “

The room was tumbling into chaos. Claude ears rang as everyone shouted over each other, intent on being the only one heard. Whatever semblance of decorum and unity had been instilled in the roundtable at the head of a common threat had faded away in an instant, leaving all the men to act as children, and Claude the only one left sitting.

Claude looked about the room. The argument continued to spiral, and the voices only grew louder as the empire grew stronger. Something had to be done.

Claude slammed his fists down on the table, once, twice, and then three more times. Slowly the room quieted, and the accusing stares of the lords turned to him. He smiled as politely as he could.

“My lords, please, this gets us nowhere. We can’t tip our hand, and we must work together towards a solution-“

“And you have one, boy?” Count Gloucester’s sneer threatened to split his face in two. “You can keep all of our children safe? They are all gathered together- the imperial army could slaughter or capture them all in a siege attack, and then force us to bow. What could you possibly propose to keep our children safe, _boy_?”

That was a good question. And Claude needed an answer fast, or the room would break into chaos all over again. Claude forced his grin, and stalled for time. “Well, you must understand, my lords, that-“

“Stalling as usual.” Count Ordelia sneered. The other roundtable members raised their hackles, and prepared to strike. Claude decided now was the time to blurt out any answer, lest he never speak up again.

“Edelgard is at Garreg Mach!” All eyes turned back to him.

“What?” Margrave Edmund said. “So what?”

Another good question. “Because…” Claude licked his lips. “That means…the empire wont attack. Yet.”

“What are you on about? They would just extract her.” Count Gloucester said. “You have implied the empire has skilled teleportation magic. It wouldn’t take very long.”

Another good point. Claude wasn’t quite sure what he was doing at this point, but sensed he couldn’t back down now. “That’s true for her, but not for the hundreds of other empire children present as students at the academy.” Claude said, trying to mask his panic. “Any war would have to take their parent’s support- much the same as yours. Putting them all in danger would end that quite quickly. A mass exodus of imperial students would give us more than enough time to escape ourselves. And no one can teleport that many people that quickly to stage a surprise attack on Garreg Mach.”

The room was quiet, before Count Gloucester started up again. “What about assassinations? We- “

“-Already had to consider that at the academy’s founding.” Duke Riegan cut in, once more composed. “There are long standing contingencies against such acts.”

“Plus, they are doubling down on guarding the place after the western church broke in.” Claude added. “Not to mention the letters you all sent demanding greater security in the church after the most recent attack, right?”

Count Gloucester’s lips thinned. “…Correct.”

“Now, if that is all settled.” Duke Riegan rapped his fingers on the table. “We will take a vote. All in favor of preparing for the empire’s military buildup?” All hands rose. “All in favor of only hinting to the church and Lord Fraldarius instead of directly informing them so the situation does not escalate out of our control?” Count Gloucester’s hand shot up. Count Ordelia grit his teeth, but his hand went up. Goneril did so without any objection, but Margrave Edmund looked down at his Seiros pendant.

“Not informing the church could leave them badly unprepared.” He whispered.

Duke Riegan nodded. “Believe me, Margrave. I abhor keeping secrets from the church as much as anyone- “ he paused to wheeze out a cough. “But we cannot allow this to spread any further than it already has until we have some control over the situation.”

Margrave Edmund continued staring down at his pendant. Count Gloucester picked up the slack. “The church is bloodthirsty, and could very easily overcommit. You know this. I know this.”

Count Ordelia nodded. “We all know it. If we can’t save ourselves, what use are we to the church?”

Goneril sighed. “I’ve been around for a time, Edmund. What the church doesn’t know won’t hurt it.”

Margrave Edmund bit his lip, took one last look at his pendant, and muttered something under his breath. “Abstain.”

There was a shift in the air, but no one commented on the margrave’s declaration. “Then it is agreed.” Duke Riegan coughed into his hand before continuing. “Count Gloucester, you will make a show about Claude’s unpreparedness or some such nonsense. I will respond in kind. Count Ordelia, offer gossip of infighting between our houses to the empire’s merchants. Margrave Edmund, ply your trade to both sides of the conflict, selling arms and directing mercenaries to where they soon may be needed. Goneril. Inform your son to build up his own armies in order to keep the throat free from Almyra without any of our aid. Lady Judith, continue marshalling strength in your lands and gathering information. This should allow us to build our armies without much suspicion. Are there any other comments?”

The roundtable spent the rest of their time debating who would do exactly what with almost unimaginable efficiency. When Claude emerged from the meeting room, he was shocked to learn that night had yet to fall over the city. He found himself sitting with his grandfather and Judith in the Riegan terrace as the two went over the finer details of the military campaign.

“Did that…just happen?” Claude stammered out. “There was barely any infighting once we had all agreed to the terms. That was the same roundtable we met with two days ago? Really?”

“Quite so.” Duke Riegan said calmly. “You performed admirably, by the way. Good work getting us back on track.”

“But…how?”

“It’s simple, kid.” Judith said between swigs from a bottle of whiskey. “Last time, you were fighting over money. Fighting over who was to blame, and who would be responsible for cleaning the mess up.” She took another drink. “Today, we presented a single enemy, outside any one lord’s influence and responsibility, preparing to strike. No one could be blamed, and no one needed to take a fall.”

“Is…that really it?” Claude leaned back in his chair. “In the last meeting, each and every member of that table behaved like a spoiled, unruly brat that refused to budge or give even an inch of ground. But now that we dangle a threat in front of them, they play the part of patriots instead of a bunch of self-serving, cowardly nobles just because they can’t blame each other?”

“I resent the implication.” Duke Riegan deadpanned. “And you will find that faith in the Leicester Alliance and love for its people played a significant part.”

“This can’t be how it works.” Claude groaned into the palm of his hands. “They don’t even fight for their people- like that first argument we had last time- about who is going to pay for a missing shipment instead of just replacing it and solving the banditry problem. Who cares about that? It doesn’t even have anything to do with Crests, the one thing everything on this continent seems to revolve around!”

“The people who don’t get to eat because the shipment went missing and the people who don’t get to eat because it has to be replaced, for a start.” Judith noted. “You’ve never seen much of poverty, have you boy?”

“Crests are only as useful as the money they bring to your name.” Duke Riegan added.

Claude frowned. “I know poverty is bad for people’s health. I’ve seen common people suffer because of the same stupid arguments here and in Almyra. What’s more to know?”

“A small mountain of nuance, and a host of unintended consequences, so nothing of import.” Duke Riegan said flatly. “You have much to learn about politics, Claude.”

Claude’s eyes narrowed. “As opposed to you, who’s lived in the lap of luxury all your life? What would you know about the people suffering, gramps? Who but the greedy nobles and merchants who don’t want to pay up could care?”

Duke Riegan scoffed as he adjusted his spectacles. “The people who work for the greedy nobles and merchants, of course.”

Judith took a sip of wine. “Those are the same people who would go without food in the earlier example, by the way.”

“That’s all the more reason for them to want to oppose this stupid bickering!” Claude groaned.

“Yet they do not. And so for any to succeed, all must win.” Duke Riegan did not sigh his words as much as he did resign himself to speaking them. “It is the hand we are dealt, and so we must play.”

“Then we should change the rules of the game.” Claude said. “It doesn’t have to be this way. We have political capital.”

“Don’t be so hasty. Things could change for the worse.” Duke Riegan said with rolled eyes. “We are not guaranteed victory in anything. For instance, Count Ordelia could end up in charge of things.” He bit out a shudder. “A truly loathsome man. If my cold doesn’t kill me, his trade policies will.”

“…Didn’t you spend an entire evening, and all of this morning buttering him up?” Claude asked.

“And in return, we got what we needed from him. If you cannot learn to shut up and deal with people you don’t agree with, you will be nothing but dust in the wind.” Duke Riegan sipped his wine. “I swallowed my pride and ego and told him what he needed to hear to do what we needed to be done. You will learn to do the same if you hope to go anywhere in life.”

“Hey, he could be like me.” Judith smirked. “Free from your stupid roundtable. Able to help anyone I want.”

“Locked out of any discussions about where our nation is going. Politicly isolated.” Duke Riegan spun his wine in its glass, and poured himself another cup.

“Popular with the people.” Judith smirked.

“Crestless people.”

“I’m beginning to grow cynical with our government, gramps.” Claude picked at his food.

“Greater men then you have tried to change it, boy.” Duke Riegan muttered back. Claude’s eye narrowed.

“That sounds like a challenge, old man.” Claude picked up a glass, and drank. “I just might have to take you up on that.”

Duke Riegan rolled his eyes. Judith smiled. “You sound like your mother.” They both said in entirely different tones.

But still, Claude couldn’t help but hear both holding the same small note of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said it before and I'll say it again: democracy simply doesn't work.
> 
> Except for when it does.
> 
> As always, thanks to [Dox](https://paradoxsage.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!
> 
> I apparently promised to get this chapter out a week ago- I don’t know why I write things that stupid, but I did.
> 
> Looking back on the franchise as whole, Fire Emblem mostly focuses on aristocracy in its political themes. It’s kind of stunning how much Ike sticks out as the only ‘commoner’, despite arguably not actually being one. I bring it up because looking back on Claude’s quotes with Kostas and a few bits of his supports, it’s clear he probably doesn’t have too much of a grasp on what life is like for common folk.


	22. The Leader's Path, Second Movement

**10 th of Verdant Rain Moon**

Edelgard stood in a lonely corner of the training hall, a spark of fire fading in and out of her hand. She breathed, and the fire flickered.

“Hello Princess!” A cheery voice called out. Edelgard’s hand closed and extinguished the flame as she sprang up to face Flayn, who smiled cheerfully. “How are you this fine day?”

“Fine. Well.” Edelgard felt her eyes drift towards the girl’s braided green hair, which had covered her ears each and every time Edelgard had seen Flayn wandering the halls of Garreg Mach. “What are you doing in the training hall?”

“Oh, Byleth and Rh-“ Flayn gave a small cough. “Professor Eisner and Lady Rhea convinced my brother to allow me to study alongside other students!”

“From the argument you had on the night of the Rite?”

“Oh yes, that was the start. In the end, my brother gave up.” Flayn smiled. “I see you are also studying the magical arts. Would you like to practice together?”

Edelgard looked around the training grounds. They were all but abandoned- Edelgard could recall hearing the lunch bell a few minutes ago. “…What would you want to study?”

Flayn beamed. “Oh, I’m dreadfully out of practice with reason magic, and you seem ready to master the art. I thought we might perform it together!”

Edelgard paused. “You’re quite young to be out of practice with magic of any kind.”

Flayn blushed, and her hand ran over some of the hair covering her ears. “Y-yes, well. My brother was quite insistent that I study magic in…previous years.”

“Why is that?”

“Oh…Um…” Flayn bit her lip, before her eyes shone brightly. “He has always been very overprotective. Sometimes he tried to teach me to defend myself, other times he sought to hide me from any dangers. It’s rather obnoxious.” Her head tilted. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about your life- have you ever had to deal with siblings?”

 _A hand reached out, bloody/holding a dagger- his/their face twisted in_ **happiness**. _Blonde/brown/faded grey hair was ragged- no, it was black, black like the dungeon shadows and that sad woman’s stare- no, it was a sad man- not her father, but he looked a bit like her father, but the words were always different_ **the same**. _She couldn’t hear much, but when the sounds echo, she always-_

“No, just servants and nobles.” Edelgard's voice was calm. “I was always being moved from place to place for one reason or another. I never had many friends my own age.”

“I see. You have my sympathies. I know the…” Flayn frowned. It seemed genuine to Edelgard. “…Frustration of not having anyone to talk to.”

“…Flayn? Are you there?” A new voice entered the room, and Edelgard flinched. The soft, gentle voice drifted through the air as the faint brush of long robes scraped against the floor. Rhea smiled like a midwife before labor- a benign pleasantness masking a terrible strain- as she approached. “And good afternoon, Princess Edelgard.”

“Lady Rhea! You made it!” Flayn chirped. Rhea nodded back.

“Indeed. I managed to find some time to spare. Do you still wish to be tutored in magic?”

‘Yes, of course!” Flayn said with an excited twirl. “Can Princess Edelgard join us? She also practices reason magic.”

Rhea’s eyes turned, regarding Edelgard like the imperial heir had seen court ladies look at each other’s toddlers. “Is that right? If she wishes, I would be happy to assist the princess in her own education.”

Edelgard paused, before deciding that she had nothing to lose by accepting. “…I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

Flayn cheered as Rhea led the group towards a private room in the training hall, built to overlook Garreg Mach’s steep cliffs. At the far side of the room stood a few vaguely human shaped dummies, carved from warded rock. Practice targets for magic.

“Lady Rhea, yesterday you reminded me of the proper hand gestures I had-“ Flayn paused. Edelgard could sense the girl’s eyes flick towards her. “-seen in your instruction books on wind magic. Do you-“

Rhea smiled. “Show me what you can do. Attack the target a few times, and I will observe your form.”

Flayn stretched her hands out and fired a blast of wind at the targets. It struck with force, sending a burst of wind across the room. Edelgard watched as Flayn yelped, and reached up to hold her hair to her ears. Rhea did the same, but in a much more graceful and natural movement.

When the gust of wind was over, Edelgard tucked her hair behind her round ears.

“Perhaps a bit less power Flayn. Focus on smaller, more precise strikes.” Rhea chuckled sweetly. “We can work on the larger spells later.” The archbishop turned to Edelgard, her expression shifting from warm and inviting to benign and pleasant almost seamlessly. “Tell me Edelgard, when did you first become interested in magic? I had thought you were focusing on more physical and diplomatic pursuits.”

“It’s been an interest of mine for some time now.” Edelgard said smoothly. “I grew up around many mages, so I have always known the basics of spellcasting.”

Rhea nodded. “I see.” A blast of wind erupted from the other side of the room and Rhea’s hand was already running down the side of her hair, smoothing down loose strands. “Still too powerful, Flayn.” The girl chirped out an apology as Rhea nodded. “And do you have a particular affinity for a type of magic, Edelgard?”

_Her uncle’s hand pressed deeply into her own as his voice remained as cruel as she could remember. The dark magic felt like a thousand needles as it hovered in her hands. “You will learn something of real spells. On your life.”_

Try as she might, her uncle’s visits refused to be drowned out in the havoc any other memories in the cell inevitably descended into. “Fire magic.” Edelgard said. Rhea nodded again.

“That is to be expected. From what I have read, the imperial household always had an affinity for fire- some scholars suggest it has something to do with the Crest of Seiros.”

Edelgard minutely raised and eyebrow. “The church keeps records of details as minute as magic preference?”

A dash of confusion touched Rhea’s face before being smoothed out. “Well, yours is a very important, and very well documented family. Not just to the empire, but to the church as well. Even with the more recent strains. Not to mention that people are naturally curious, and look for patterns.”

Edelgard let her head tilt. “Do you mean the dissolution of the southern church when you say strains? That’s recent to you?”

Rhea smile was alarmingly gentle. “I suppose you are correct. I was thinking in historical terms, and one hundred and twenty or so years is not much compared to the millennia our institutions have shared together.” Another gust was summoned by Flayn. Its blowback was subtle, nary a hair on Rhea’s head blew out of place. She ran her hand through it all the same. “May I see a demonstration of your own magic?”

Edelgard held her hands up, and a flame sprang to life in her palms. Rings of symbols floated around her hands, before she willed the flame to strike the target. Her fireball struck the head, but the warding held firm. Only light singes showed.

“Very impressive.” Rhea beamed. “I could barely manage that level of control at your age.”

An hour passed, and the three continued to practice. Rhea was patient and calm throughout it all, correcting any mistake Edelgard made with a gentle voice and a soft smile.

Edelgard grew to loathe both. Here was a woman who had just sentenced a dozen men to death without so much as a thought. She had lived for millennia as an inhuman creature, and throughout it all never once changed the church she had led. The common folk remained trampled upon by nobles, who flouted their ‘divine’ blood as though it made them superior to anyone and everyone. But here she was, playing at domesticity.

“Widen your stance, Flayn. Wind magic isn’t like holy light spells- If you are not grounded, you can be thrown back by your own power.”

“Yes, Lady Rhea!”

The archbishop turned back to Edelgard, smiling as always. “And I daresay you have all but mastered the basic fire spells. You are a natural.”

Edelgard met Rhea’s smiling visage, her ears as hidden as her history. _In the darkness of her cell, she looked up to Arundel, his malice now plain as day._ “As you say.”

“I do.” Rhea said earnestly.

Edelgard bit her lip and allowed herself a question. “Archbishop, may I ask you something…of a delicate nature?”

Rhea’s face brightened. “Of course, Edelgard. As I said after the Rite of Rebirth, I am more than happy to answer any question you wish to ask.”

“Why are you helping me?”

Rhea paused. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Should I not?”

Edelgard kept her posture firm. “Are you not busy with your other duties? I have not seen you socialize with any other students, nor heard any rumors to the fact.”

“That’s not true. Lady Rhea often helps instruct me!” Flayn’s smile was earnest. Edelgard looked to the girl, and the smile dipped with confusion. Edelgard, heir to the imperial throne, looked away from the sister of the church of Seiros’ lieutenant and back to its archbishop. Rhea wore a modest frown, but her brow suggested contemplation.

“You seem a very intelligent young woman, Edelgard.”

“I’ve had to be.”

Rhea’s mouth opened, but stopped before sound came out. Her expression shifted, before settling on a dignified show of grief. “Then I will pray your wit serves Adrestia well.” Rhea’s face smoothed over, becoming a more pleasantly neutral canvas, the likes of which Edelgard could only recall seeing on her uncle’s face. “I won’t deny my wish for us to have a…happier relationship then our predecessors.” The smile Edelgard had grown accustomed to returned. “But any serious consideration of that matter is far into the future. For now, I only hope to aid your education. I have been giving thought to helping tutor a few students as my schedule allows.”

 _Like the girl who could control monsters,_ Edelgard did not say. “I see.”

Rhea’s lip curled. “I suppose you do.” She blinked, and a bit of levity entered her face. “If I may offer some advice, as the head of the church of Seiros, I know full well what it is like to have everyone else painfully aware of my position and power.” Her lips thinned into a slight smile. “I can only ask you to use your sharp intellect and try to discern who favors you purely for their own ends.”

“You think the church and the empire should reunite formally.” Edelgard did not ask, but declare.

Rhea remained still for a moment. “If the people of the empire wish it, I would welcome them with open arms.” Her eyes twinkled. “The scriptures speak of greeting others with old friends.”

“And then what? We become as close as we were at the empire’s founding?” Edelgard kept just enough cordiality in her tone.

“That could never happen.” Flayn said confidently. “That bond was all but marriage.” Edelgard turned, confused.

“What?”

Flayn nodded eagerly. “It’s true! Saint Seiros and Emperor Wilhelm were closer than any other husband and wife. In fact, I-“

“Flayn.” Rhea’s voice was soft but strained, gentle but growing forceful. Her eyes were caught between widening in surprise and narrowing at a threat. “I understand you are a passionate student of history, and wish to see Edelgard and I become friends, but now is not the time for _conjecture_.”

Flayn bit her lip and looked to the floor. Edelgard felt confusion rush across her face. “Marriage? Saint Seiros and Emperor Wilhelm? What-“

“It’s an old wife’s tale.” Rhea said quickly. Too quickly. “There is much speculation as to what exactly the two’s relationship entailed, but…”

“I certainly have never heard of such a story.” Edelgard agreed. And so it would require further investigation.

“Alright, enough of this dreadful matter.” Flayn said with a stomp of her foot. “Let’s just focus on learning magic!” Her fists curled together. “I wish to try my hand at fire magic!”

Rhea smiled. “Of course, Flayn. It is much the same as wind magic, but requires more control- you must keep your hands below the flame, lest they burn.” As Flayn turned back to the target, Rhea’s smile turned to Edelgard once again. “And would you like to move on to the next level of fire magic?”

Edelgard bit her cheek. “I suppose.”

“Good. Close your eyes and concentrate. I will guide you as you gather the strength required.”

Edelgard took a breath and closed her eyes.

“Very good. Now gather your strength. Hold a simple fire spell in your hand. Now let it smolder, feed it magic, but do not allow the spell’s size to grow.”

Edelgard did her best impression of the twelve-year-old she used to be, and the spell grew ever so slightly more towards Bolganone magic.

“Good, good.” Edelgard could hear the patronizing smile. Another gust of air blew over them, and Edelgard could see Rhea brush down her hair. “Continue, allow yourself more power. Take more strength. Let it grow.”

Edelgard wondered what might happen if the woman could no longer hide what she was from the world. Would she still speak so softly, so gently? Or would her grip tighten as her inhumanity was revealed?

Rhea’s voice remained just as gentle, at just the same pitch Edelgard had heard many court ladies speak in just before the insurrection. “And now you must once again contain it. Let it appear as any other fire spell. Do not allow any foe to see its true power until it is too late.” Like Arundel spoke before Faerghus. Before-

_Her uncle looked down on her, his face full of the honest contempt. “You will accomplish this much at least, girl. You will be what you were destined to be. What you are needed to be.” What he demanded her be._

“Yes, very good. Now, open your eyes and strike one of the targets.”

Edelgard took a deep breath, as her vision slowly returned to her. Rhea smiled all the same. Her hair still neatly combed to hide her ears. It was almost too obvious now that Edelgard knew what lay beneath.

Edelgard took another breath, and closed her eyes. She allowed herself to imagine casting the spell alight in her hand, of burning away Rhea’s defense, of what would happen when it was revealed that Edelgard was the one to unmask the inhuman beast ruling the church- she could do anything then. Her uncle would mean nothing. And Rhea and her church that could save no one, would fade away. All Edelgard would have to do was force the woman to reveal her ears, and then-

_Rhea stood in a desolate field, the wage of war offering its smoking tribute as the storm clouds above let loose a monsoon upon the cracked and broken earth. She wore a strange garb, at once regal and warlike, with a crown of wings atop her head. From beneath her hair, long, pointed ears, just like Byleth’s protruded._

_Her face was awash with dirt, blood, and fury only alike her uncle’s once he had realized she was his experiment’s last chance to succeed. Edelgard tried to move, tried to run, tried to fight, but in a flash of lightning, Rhea’s fist descended, and-_

“-lgard! Please, speak!” Edelgard’s eyes blinked open. Rhea’s voice was frantic, her hand having shot forward to grasp Edelgard’s fingers. The magic had faded, instead leaving her darkened and singed gloves, and the terrible sting of first-degree burns. Faith magic ran across Rhea’s own hands, slowly healing the damage. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“I-I-I…” Edelgard swallowed, and tried to steady her breathing. “I don’t know. I-“ She hissed as Rhea’s had moved over a patch of exposed skin. “I haven’t been getting much sleep, I suppose…”

Rhea frowned. “I see.”

The lesson ended shortly afterwards. Flayn hovered in between Edelgard and Rhea while the archbishop cured the rest of the imperial princess’ wounds, all the while insisting that Edelgard make certain to not let sleep escape her, but just before Rhea could insist that Edelgard see Manuela, Edelgard’s mind began to drift to whatever she had just seen. Had it been a vision of the future, granted by the Crest of Flames? Her overly active imagination? It couldn’t have been a memory. But it had almost felt like a memory. But she had never seen Rhea in that clothing, nor had she ever seen such a battlefield. It at once made her nostalgic in the same way her uncle did, and forgetful and puzzled and made her feel something intangible, like-

the practice room’s door creaked open, and Byleth stood surveying the scene with her usual unflappable stoicism. “Lady Rhea.” She said, not missing a beat. “Seteth would like me to remind you that we have a staff meeting in a matter of minutes.”

Rhea frowned, and her eyes darted towards the window to see the shadows. “Ah.” She turned back to Edelgard and gave a polite nod. “I must apologize, Edelgard, Flayn. I must be going now. Flayn, can you make certain I did not miss any burns?”

“Of course, Lady Rhea!” Flayn eagerly took the Archbishop’s position next Edelgard as Rhea quickly walked towards the door. Byleth’s eyes drifted from Edelgard to the archbishop as she stepped out of the way, before giving a quick nod to Edelgard, and falling behind Rhea.

Something cut at Edelgard’s heart. A gnawing feeling, demanding she do something, about… something.

“Wait!” Edelgard called out. Both Byleth and Rhea turned.

“Yes?” they asked in union, their green eyes both almost glowing in the shade, both hiding their ears under long locks of hair.

Edelgard bit her lip. “I…” A pang cut through her. “I…nothing. My apologies.”

Rhea smiled that same smile, before turning back to her path. Byleth remained for a moment more, before waving. “You can see me anytime, Edelgard.” But all the same, Byleth resumed walking after Rhea. Edelgard stood next to Flayn, feeling a desolate loneliness as gnawing, uncertain, raw emotion pushed against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story has hit 600 Kudos! Thanks everyone! As always, thanks to [Dox](https://paradoxsage.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!
> 
> I look through the game’s scenes now and then, and I’ve probably said this before, but it is truly amazing how few conversations Rhea and Edelgard share.


	23. Arcana Code

Rhea strode through the hallways, briskly passing by a swarm of students and priest. All turned their heads to briefly stare at her passing, something Rhea had long grown accustomed to. But there was a subtle shift in the long familiar movements. In past holidays at the Imperial capital, Rhea would share the adoring looks of Enbarr’s populace with the emperors, both waving atop parade floats or the palace’s grand balconies. Even within Garreg Mach, Rhea could always feel eyes wander toward her whenever she passed. But now they slid off her like so much water falling down a rooftop, Rhea’s presence only mildly noteworthy.

Byleth did not pay any attention to the many looks directed towards her or to the Sword of the Creator at her side.

Rhea was unsure how to feel about the change. On one hand, it was a nice change of pace not to be the center of attention. On the other-

“Oh, hey, Professor!” Cyril’s voice sprang up from behind a column as the two turned into a deserted passageway. “I was asked to deliver this to- Oh, hello Lady Rhea!”

“Cyril. A good afternoon to you.” Rhea pursed her lips. The boy was holding a note- high quality paper, from the look of it. “What do you have for the professor?”

“Someone asked me to give her a note.” Cyril handed it to Byleth, who quickly unfolded it and began to read. “Said they were too nervous. Dunno why…”

Rhea felt her lips thin. “And who was this…young…?”

“Didn’t catch her name, but she said something about being payed-“

Byleth crumpled the note and threw it into a nearby trash bin. “Thank you, Cyril. I’d ask you to use your discretion for any future notes sent your way.”

Cyril paused. “You mean I should…”

“The same discretion you use for any notes aimed at Lady Rhea, please.”

“Oh. That makes it easy. No problem.” Cyril gave a thumbs-up to Byleth, before giving a polite half-bow to Rhea as he walked away. “Lady Rhea.”

“Thank you, Cyril.” Rhea eyed the discarded note. Byleth walked ahead into a more crowded passageway, and again eyes instantly turned her way. Rhea followed, and many young eyes did not shift away from her granddaughter.

Rhea’s feelings on the shift in attention was much more concrete. Rhea strode forth quickly, wrapping her arm around Byleth’s, who looked up at Rhea, but offered no resistance.

“Come along, professor. We have kept Seteth waiting long enough.” Rhea strode quickly, and people moved out of the way.

“It’s the same attention half the noblemen give you.” Byleth’s voice was dull, but not inattentive.

“And I’ve had years to train them how to behave.” Rhea muttered.

“As have I.” Rhea looked back to Byleth. “I set my boundaries. Give them time. They can be taught and retaught.”

“I-But-“ Rhea bit her lip and let out a hiss. “A young woman your-“ Byleth did not roll her eyes. Rhea hissed again. “-Should know better. We will discuss this with your father.”

Rhea felt slightly alarmed that she couldn’t tell if Byleth was smirking. “But before that, we have a conversation with Hanneman.”

What little emotion that was present on Byleth’s face disappeared. Or perhaps it had never been there.

After one final rounded corner, the two had arrived at the meeting room. Seteth’s clipped drone whispered through the door, a few scattered murmurs inserting themselves between his pauses. Rhea smoothed out her robes, pushed a few stray hairs back into place, and opened the door.

“-And unless there are any other objections at this time to next year’s proposed balance of resources…” Seteth barely looked up from his papers as Rhea and Byleth found their seats among the other faculty and staff members. Manuela shifted uncomfortably, eying a flask at her belt every so often. Hanneman nodded away, his eyes glossy and distant, no doubt thinking of his newfound Signs. Alois shouted out his support now and then to Seteth’s dull chagrin. Aelfric remained a picture of professionalism, clean shaven and tired sunken eyes hidden well.

Ten minutes passed, and Seteth cleared his throat. “…And now that the budgeting is out of the way, we can move on to student welfare, now that the archbishop is here. Aelfric, would you like to lead us? You mentioned a problem you wished to share.”

He nodded. “Thank you Seteth, and I very much appreciate your generous forwarding of foodstuffs and clothing. Many children will rest easier tonight.” Seteth nodded back. “I am certain you all have at least heard of Abyss in your time here at Garreg Mach-“ a few mutters and nods were passed around the table. Rhea gave them no mind. “-But now that we have Lady Rhea’s blessing, I would ask you all to keep an open mind. I have been tutoring a number of underprivileged youths for some years now, who have dubbed themselves the ‘Ashen Wolves.’

Now, I have done my best to keep them properly fed and out of trouble. And for the most part, they behave themselves well. But…” Aelfric looked at Rhea, before his eyes fell downward. “It has come to my attention that several young…gentlemen have come to Abyss in an attempt to woo…I believe the name they have given Hapi is ‘ the worm girl.’ She expressed her desire for me…” He coughed politely. “To ask you to…” His mouth twisted, half amused and half admonished. “…Remind them of her disinterest.”

Manuela sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Poor girl, I’ve been there more than once-“ A snort did not go unheard by Rhea’s ears. “How many boys have returned more then once? Anyone in particular?”

Aelfric coughed again. “Hapi…did not mention them by…proper name. just that there were seven boys repeating the offense in the past week. And one girl.”

“I had feared revealing her would come to this.” Rhea sighed. Seteth nodded.

“The students will be reminded what behavior is unacceptable. Professors, I will visit each of your classrooms to give a speech on the matter.”

“That is more likely to make the offenders try harder.” Hanneman mused. “Especially the privileged nobles. Being told to not seek out a powerful Crest will just make them want the girl more.”

Alois frowned. “Aye, it’s a sad truth. The young have a bad habit of hearing a no as maybe.”

Alois’ downcast face gained a wistful quality. “Though, I suppose it doesn’t always go as badly as this will. When I was training under Captain Jeralt-”

Hanneman snorted. “You’re too charitable, Alois. The students should know better.”

“I know, I’m just saying, young people do stupid things, and I was once young!”

“Yes. What foolish things young men pursue.” Rhea murmured.

 _Rhea looked down at the burning red eyes of her fifth, who spat his words. “I know what’s best for_ my _woman,_ archbishop. _”_

Her eyes drifted to Aelfric, who was intently studying his paling knuckles. “All of you, please make it clear that I will not tolerate any harassment of this Hapi girl.”

A few heads turned, but all nodded to Rhea. “If you have no other major concerns, Aelfric…” He looked up from his hands, blinking, and then nodding. “We can move on. I have seen that all our students are making their expected growth, but this has already been a turbulent year. I would like to know about our student’s well-being.” Her conversation with Edelgard had been…disconcerting. “Alois, how do the Blue Lions fare?”

“Oh, of course.” Alois straightened in his chair, smiling. “Well, they are mostly holding up just fine. Though I’ve been talking to Ashe a fair bit. Lonato was his father, you see…” His smile faded as he tugged at his collar. “It’s been hard on the lad, you know. Prince Dimitri too. A sad state of affairs, when they have to kill their countrymen…” Alois sighed. “I fear Faerghus will be bloody even after the prince takes the throne. And none of this is helped by the fact that we are going after Gautier’s disowned child this month. Sylvain is putting on a brave face, but I have a hunch that it’s...” Alois wore his heart on his sleeve. “It’s going to be a hard year for these kids.”

“What about Dedue?” Byleth asked. A few heads turned her way.

“Huh? What about him?” Alois’ brow furrowed. “He’s a bit quiet, but Dedue’s a bright lad. Good on his feet, strong like an ox! He’s the cream of the crop among the men I’ve met from Duscur…“ Alois’ voice trailed off, and the room grew a bit more still. He coughed. “Well…The lad doesn’t seem to want to make much of the whole…situation.” Alois’ eyes narrowed. “I’ve seen some of the staff harass him, but no matter how much I discipline them, there are always more jeers for the poor lad.” Alois turned to Rhea, his expression hardening. “Lady Rhea, could you do something about this? The clergy and knights are more likely to listen to you.”

“Ah…” Rhea sensed Byleth’s eyes train at her. “Yes, of course. The goddess despises unjust hatred. I will make an announcement at the next service.”

Alois smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Lady Rhea! That should be a big help. One word from you should clear everything up!” Rhea stopped herself from sighing at Alois’ declaration. She looked at Byleth, who met her eyes, waited a polite moment, and looked elsewhere.

Rhea chewed on her lip. “Hanneman? What of the Golden Deer?”

“Hmm? Oh they’re fine. Nothing to report, archbishop.”

Rhea blinked. “Really?”

Hanneman’s mustache wiggled. “Well, there are the standard angsts of children becoming adults, and a few more-“ He coughed. “Personal issues, but I doubt I could tell you anything their parents don’t.”

“I see.” Rhea turned to Manuela. “And the Black Eagles?”

“If the gossip mill is still functioning, you should have all heard about Edelgard by now.” Manuela ran her fingers through her hair. “She’s been…I wouldn’t say depressed, but she has withdrawn into herself. The girl still keeps up with her schoolwork, meets and even exceeds expectations, but she barely says a word in class these days.” A narrow frown formed. “I’ve asked my other students, but they’re just as confused as I am.” Manuela let out a huff. “And then there’s Hubert! The boy hardly ever shows up to class, and I can almost never find him around campus!”

“Yes. I spoke to Edelgard earlier today.” Rhea held her hands together. “From what I can gather, she…” Her lips pressed thin. “Given the empire’s recent political turmoil, I can only imagine the stress of being the heir to the throne is…” Rhea closed her eyes for a moment. “Immense.” She sighed. The girl had a look that no child should ever have to wear, “Let us continue to offer what support we can, as well as to the young Vestra. I can only imagine he is also part of whatever haunts Edelgard.”

Everyone nodded, and the discussion moved on to other topics. Hanneman confirmed that the Golden Deer were preparing to take care of some bandits near Gloucester territory. Seteth showed Manuela a letter requesting an escort for prisoners marching from Enbarr to Lord Arundel’s estate. Aelfric confirmed Constance von Nuvelle’s eagerness to seek Duke Gerth. With that, the meeting concluded, and everyone stood up and began to trickle out of the room.

“Hanneman? Could you wait a moment?” Rhea called. Hanneman turned, already halfway out of his chair, before nodding and sitting back down. All other attendees had exited the room, save Byleth and Seteth who remained at their seats.

“I have been informed that you have made a breakthrough in your research. Something about Signs?”

Hanneman’s eyes lit up. “Yes, yes! Quite right! I had been meaning to inform you when my research had progressed further and more working prototypes have been made, but what I have accomplished with- uh-“ His mustache wiggled, and Hanneman did a poor job of hiding where he was looking. “T-that is to say, some people- I mean things might wish to remain-“

“Rhea and Seteth know I am from the future.” Byleth said. Hanneman deflated.

“Oh. Well. If your grace knows that, I suppose everything is in order.” Hanneman coughed. “With Byleth’s help, or perhaps more accurately, guidance, I have found a way to create small artifacts that will allow the wielder to use the power of any Crest- though slightly weaker than minor Crests. If perfected, this invention will completely revolutionize the world! There would no longer be a need for the infernal Crest system, no more need for those cruel arranged marriages, no more-“

“I want you to stop.” Rhea’s tone was firm. Hanneman’s breath caught on his throat. Seteth’s expression was stoic, though a grim tug played at his lip. Byleth looked on impassively, as always.

“I-but-what-I-“ Hanneman’s face danced with emotions, going from to confusion to rage to distress and back again. “What?” He breathed out.

Rhea allowed herself to loom over the room, even as she sat in her chair. Her Wilhelm’s tutoring had been impeccable. “What you are doing is a danger to the world. If knowledge of this spreads, chaos will reign.”

“I-“ Hanneman sucked in a breath. “I-“ His hands clenched into fists. “Archbishop, I cannot allow you to do that!” He stood up, breathing heavily and leaning over the table. Rhea did not shift. “I have the key to ending the Crest system! A quickly creatable artifact that will put everyone, be they common or noble birth, on an even playing field! I can’t allow you to-“ Hanneman exhaled in an out, breathing deeply. He locked eyes with Rhea, soul alight in his eyes. “If it comes to this, and I cannot create the Signs with your approval, I will tenure my resignation immediately.”

Rhea allowed herself to loom. “You feel that strongly?”

Hanneman breathed in, hot and fast. “Yes. I do. I lost my sister to the Crest system. I have the power to make certain no one else ever has to.” He swallowed. “And so far, you have given me no reason to not create them.”

“If I may.” Seteth said evenly. “How are you planning to distribute these Signs?”

“Distribute?” Hanneman blinked. “I- what does that have to do with anything?”

“Distribution decides who actually receives the Signs. A noble with foul intentions could easily stockpile shipments to build his own forces. A group of bandits could steal some and wreak havoc on an unsuspecting county. A black market would most assuredly arise to launder pilfered Signs.” Seteth crossed his arms.

Rhea was stern. “Not to mention, this would give three nations who already have a tenuous grasp of peace another reason to fight.” She glanced to Byleth, who remained impassive. “not to mention that the Crest bloodlines have thinned through the centuries. It is quite possible that they will simply fade away.” She could only hope that humans would no longer be able to abuse Sothis’ gift to her children one day. “these Signs will only fan the flames, concentrating power in those with the wealth to collect and horde them.”

“Not true! I do not intend to hoard this knowledge like a greedy king! I can spread my methods far and wide, to make certain that we never have to deal with such a problem. And people are suffering now!” Hanneman slammed the table. “I cannot simply wait for ‘future generations’ to lose their Crests if I have a solution now!”

“And what does our expert have to say on this matter?” Seteth noted dryly. Byleth turned to face him. “You have lived centuries into the future. What path is the correct one?”

Byleth shifted in her seat. Hanneman leaned forward. Rhea felt her breath slow.

“There is not a ‘correct’ decision.” Byleth said evenly. Everyone held their breath, and she continued. “While the blood of Crests thin, they will never truly disappear. They will skip generations, sometimes be greater or lesser, but never disappear.” Byleth locked eyes with Rhea. “Crests will simply be part of Fódlan forever.”

Rhea glanced at Seteth. Their eyes met. His expression was as indescribable as Rhea felt. “I see.”

Byleth spoke again. “As far as distributing the Signs…” her fingers drummed against the table. “They are a tool like steel or sails. They can be used for great good, or terrible cruelty. The Sign of Blaiddyd can give someone the strength to haul a quarry singlehandedly, or allow them to crush bones without effort. The Sign of Indech can give you the speed too seed a field in half a day, or cut a purse before anyone notices. And on and on and on.”

Byleth took another breath. “But the Signs will find their way into everyone’s hands, one way or another. Umbral Steel, the stuff they are made of, is organic and renewable. Monsters have a bad habit of refusing to go extinct, and dragging villages down with them.” Byleth’s lip twitched oddly. “Still I cannot help but have pity for their lot.”

“Yes.” Rhea muttered. Once human, unable to control the spilled Nabatean blood, cursed forever to inflict the rage of a dead nation upon the world. “Goddess have mercy.”

“If we were to allow the Signs to spread, the world would be much like it is now. People would fight. People would work together. They would simply be…” Byleth ran her hand through the hair that covered her ears. “…stranger.”

“So what is to be done then?” Seteth mused. “You told us of this science project a week ago, and Rhea and I are of similar minds.”

“I still refuse to believe the status quo is acceptable.” Hanneman declared.

Byleth was quiet for a moment. “Whatever choice we make will fundamentally change the world. Sometimes this decision has been made in months.” Byleth glanced at Hanneman. “Other times years. I can offer no easy solution. One day you will hate yourself for being week enough to release the Signs. Another day curse that you had not the strength to spread them to the masses. It is…” Byleth breathed in, and a terrible emotion gripped her voice. “We will be allowing the world something great and terrible. Too needed to hide it away, too deadly to let it free. We-“ Another terrible breath. “Whether I bring it up to any of you or not, I always curse myself.”

All were silent after that. Rhea tried to speak and failed. Eventually she turned to Hanneman, who was staring down, expression unreadable. “We should-“ Rhea bit her lip. “Hanneman, I think we should all…try to contemplate what stands before us.”

Hanneman nodded slowly. “Archbishop.” With barely a sound, he stood form his chair and retreated from the room.

Rhea looked back at Byleth, who’s eyes gleamed dully. “Is this choice truly so terrible?”

Byleth waited a moment to respond. “You have already made the decision many times over.”

Rhea blinked. “I have?”

“You have held back the technology for centuries. This decision is much the same.”

“What?” Rhea stood up. “If this is the same, we cannot allow these Signs to spread. If the humans become more like the Agarthans, that will only lead to more tragedy and destruction! We must-“

“Rhea.” Seteth said evenly. “It’s not that simple. It never was.”

“Yes, it is.” Rhea felt her nails dig into her palms. “You saw the destruction the Agarthans wrought. And what the humans already do with our brethren’s power is-“ She scoffed.

“The Agarthans made cruel decisions that led them to their fate. We can guide the humans to something better.” Seteth stood up, pushing in his chair. “Simply forcing them to shun progress is not the way.”

“I’ve been trying to lead them for a thousand years. Still they war with each other, and not even the Goddess can sway them from wrong.” Rhea stared down at Seteth. He did not flinch.

“Endless complexity.” Byleth sighed. Rhea and Seteth turned. “There will be no easy answers to this question. Instead let us focus on something simple.” Byleth exhaled once more, and a clarity returned to her eyes. “Shambala. It will be difficult, but it can be conquered, and from what Seteth has told me, we should be ready in two months. Now, about Edelgard’s trip to Lord Arundel…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to [Dox](https://paradoxsage.tumblr.com/) for beta reading!
> 
> Taking Hanneman’s ending to the logical conclusion based on what NG+ gives us is an experience.


	24. The Long Road, Second Movement

**18 th of the Verdant Rain Moon**

_“Stupid boy. You run to her like a lapdog. You feed out of her hands, content with scraps and gristle your new mistress allows.”_ Lambert’s shade flickered in and out of the windows Dimitri passed. “ _You lower yourself to a common woman. You are a prince. She should kneel before you. Whatever power she possesses should be at the service of royalty!”_ The prince pressed his lips together.

The clang of steel from the training hall came into earshot next. Between the rhythmic clash, Glenn’s voice slithered out from the walls. “ _Only you can avenge us. Abandon her. We can only be satisfied by your effort. Your strength.”_ He hissed, and Dimitri looked down. “ _Your sacrifice.”_

A shadow of a woman came into view as Dimitri stepped into a hallway. _“Dimitri, listen to your mother! You must-“_

“Yes, Dimitri?” The prince looked up from the shadow to find Byleth, slowly blinking with soft, almost glowing green eyes. Dimitri coughed, and nodded to her.

“Can anything be done?”

“Byleth tilted her head. “For Sylvain, you mean?”

Dimitri’s lip pursed. “I can’t imagine trying to kill a-“ He sucked in a breath. “Any family, no matter how they have wronged you.”

Byleth remained quiet, her eyes studying Dimitri. He felt small as she looked up to him. “Miklan has made his choices.”

Dimitri looked down. The shadows tugged at the corners of his eyes. “I see.”

“There is something more you should know.”

Dimitri looked up again. “Yes?”

“You should not allow Miklan to wield the Lance of Ruin for any extended period of time. The power is corrupting for anyone without a crest.”

Dimitri’s brow furrowed. “But Miklan has always known of the relic’s power, and what it can do. Surely it has already corrupted his mind-“

“I am referring to physical changes that will take hold of Miklan.”

“I…Physical changes?” Dimitri’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“If someone without a Crest tries to wield a Relic, their body will be put under enormous strain.” Byleth said. “The power contained within the weapons require a Crest to channel their strength without harming a human body. Without the Crest, a Relic will begin to force changes onto the body. At first internally, but they quickly spread. Eventually, the wielder will transform into a demonic beast.”

Dimitri’s eyes shot open as he reeled back. “That’s-“ Byleth remained unmoved. “Professor, that’s- you don’t know if- could I-“

Byleth cut him off quickly. “No one with a Crest will ever suffer adverse effects from wielding a relic. You, nor any of your friends who have a Crest will ever need to fear any Relic not pointed at you.”

“I…” Dimitri hesitated. “Are you…how can you be certain?”

_“The lying little worm is taunting you, boy.”_ Patricia’s voice was like molten iron in his ear. _“She could have saved Lonato.”_ Dimitri felt himself shiver. “ _She could tell you how to save Gautier’s brat.”_ His father’s voice joined, and Dimitri took a breath. “ _She knows who killed us. Force her to answer-“_

Byleth took a step forward, and placed her hand on his shoulder, and the voices fell silent. “Years of experience.”

Dimitri’s eyes widened. “I-how-“ Byleth’s face remained stoic. “Did you know about- how could you-“

Byleth’s grip was firm. “Years of experience.”

“Is it-“ Dimitri held his breath, “Am I- will I ever satisfy the ghosts of the dead? Will my mother and father ever rest in peace?”

Byleth opened her mouth, and then closed it. Her eyes wandered to her hand laying on his shoulder. Dimitri felt the hand shift between holding firm and retreating, and then back again. “…The killers are always brought to justice.”

_“She lies. They all lie.”_ Glenn’s voice was distant, but loud. _“You can’t trust her. She will dangle our revenge before you just to use you like all the others in Rufus’ court. You must-“_

“Dimitri.” Byleth’s voice was firm, but held a gentle note. “It rarely ends well when I come out and tell you what you want to know. The web of deceit is vast.”

Patricia hissed. _“She lies, the little sl-“_

Byleth’s other hand fell onto Dimitri’s shoulder, and the whispers ceased again. Byleth’s eyes glittered a stern determination Dimitri had only ever seen when Dedue swore his oaths. “I can only beg you to trust my experience.”

“…When this is over, will the dead go to rest?” Dimitri asked.

Byleth was silent for a moment. “Those voices are not your parents.” Dimitri stiffened. “The woman you hear is not your mother. Patricia…” Byleth’s fingers pressed a bit deeper into his skin. “…Glenn, your father, would never say such things.”

Dimitri stared at Byleth. “…How close were we…for you to know that?”

Byleth face was wiped clear of all emotion. “I will always expend a hand in friendship to someone who needs it.”

Her face was unflinching. After a while, he gently removed her hands from his shoulders. “Thank you for your kind words.” He turned away and marched to vanish into the training hall.

* * *

**20 th of Verdant Rain Moon**

Byleth looked down on Sitri’s grave. Rhea’s artisans had done excellent work, as always.

“So this is your mother’s gravestone?” Flayn asked quietly.

Byleth hummed back. Her eyes drifted to an empty space.

To her side, Jeralt sighed. “Yeah, there it is.”

Flayn blinked. “What is the matter? Surely you do not object to her gravestone?”

Jeralt’s craggy face softened. “Oh. Uh.” He paused, and Flayn’s frown lines grew more pronounced. “No, I’m grateful that Rhea gave her a new tombstone.”

Flayn’s lips pursed. “Then why…that couldn’t…Byleth, is your mother’s body like…?”

Byleth nodded. “Not quite like yours, but yes.”

Flayn’s expression flashed with sorrow. “Then I can offer my deepest sympathies. I’m terribly sorry for you. I had hoped no one else would ever have to endure such a unique suffering.”

Jeralt bit his lip and looked to Byleth. She kept staring at the vacant lots. “Her mother’s remains do not lie at her gravesite.”

Jeralt’s eyes shot open “Oh.” He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Flayn’s demeanor brightened. “It is quite all right. I’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with it.” She bounced in her shoes, holding her hands behind her back. “Besides, this is your place of mourning, not mine. I had no intention of trying to unduly garner your sympathy.”

“Uh. Alright.” Jeralt face shifted to his usual expression of contained mild annoyance.

“Do you plan to place something on her grave? Did she like any particular kinds of flowers, perhaps?”

Jeralt’s lips twitched as he let out a half a breath. “Foreign flowers. Stuff that Garreg Mach’s greenhouses and surroundings can’t grow.”

Flayn’s gaze darted towards Sitri’s grave. “I suspect that I might understand your wife, even though we have never met.”

Jeralt looked down at Flayn, before turning back to the new tombstone. “I’m sorry to hear that, kid.”

Byleth turned back to the empty space between graves. She felt Jeralt eye her, but he made no comment. “A traveling florist comes in three weeks. He sells Almyran sunflowers and Tulips from Brigid.”

“Hmm.” Jeralt sounded very tired in that moment. “I’ll be sure to get some.”

“Will you be able to?” Flayn asked. “I had heard you and your mercenaries were going on a long march soon. Perhaps I can purchase them for you?”

“No, we should be back by then.” Jeralt said. “We’re just assigned to babysit the Black Eagles when they go to Arundel’s lands.”

Flayn pressed her hands together. “Oh, an adventure! What fun! I too shall be accompanying Byleth and my brother on a journey! My very first since arriving at Garreg Mach!”

Jeralt huffed with a dry amusement. “Good for you, kid.” His eyebrow rose. “Your…brother is okay with that? I thought he wouldn’t let you.”

Flayn beamed as she nodded towards Byleth. “Your daughter was already accompanying the students from Abyss on a mission. Her promises and Lady Rhea’s encouragement are most appreciated.”

“So even he can’t ignore her ‘ _requests’_ …” Jeralt muttered under his breath before trailing off as he looked up the flight of stairs. “Well. Speaking of her.”

Byleth turned to meet Rhea as she made her way down the staircase to the gravesite. “Hello Flayn. Jeralt, Byleth, my apologies for interrupting.”

“No, it’s fine.” Jeralt said in an even voice. Byleth could not sense much resentment in him. “Nothing to solemn. Just making a shopping list.”

Flayn nodded. “We were talking about the missions we are undertaking in the coming days!” she stopped to give a short curtsy. “and thank you for convincing my dear brother.”

Rhea smiled. “It is no trouble. Seteth was considering it for some time.”

The empty spaces called to Byleth. She turned back to them. Rhea and Flayn started a conversation about the climate in the northern empire, and Jeralt occasionally interjected with his own experiences. Odd jobs that had landed him and Byleth in that corner of the world. Sothis hovered at her shoulder, listening intently to the conversation. Byleth could barely remember the lands. Bits and pieces of traveling through a town that wasn’t Remire. Odd fashions of noble ladies. Perhaps she had fed a stray dog. Or maybe it had been an orphaned girl. It was so very long ago.

Jeralt did not turn to look at her as he recounted the flowerbeds locked behind Arundel’s gates. Perhaps Byleth had done something then. Or perhaps he recognized that Byleth would have almost no recollection of events lifetimes away. Perhaps she should ask her father to recount some tales from life on the road. That usually cheered him up.

“Ah!” Flayn gasped into her hand. “It’s getting late. Brother is insisting I pack my things for our mission! I must be off!” She gave a quick curtsy and then ran to her room. Jeralt waved goodbye as he turned to Byleth. “Kid. Me and Rhea want to talk with you. Let’s go somewhere private.” Rhea nodded.

Byleth shifted her eyes away from empty spaces between graves and walked up the staircase. Rhea and Jeralt followed her down into an empty passage, towards the archbishop’s quarters.

“So,” Jeralt’s voice was casual with just a cord of seriousness, like when he was about to ask a client about important information he should have been told. “Anything in particular I should know about Arundel?”

“He has a long fuse, but keeps grudges.” Byleth said as she turned a corner. “Professionalism will keep everything smooth.”

“Bad tempers and long memories. Right.” Jeralt clicked his tongue. “Yeah. I know the type.” Rhea almost sucked in a breath, but pulled back to a subtle, almost inaudible sigh. Jeralt rubbed the back of his neck. “Simple mission. Keep out of the lord’s hair, make sure the princess’ escort goes off without a hitch. No trouble.”

It would require another month to move the church’s forces into position to safely destroy Shambala. Until then, it would not hurt to try and get eyes on Arundel’s lands- now that Solon was long gone and certain to have told Thales whatever he knew, Jeralt’s position as her father would keep him safe. Thales was a very nervous man at this stage. An ordinary mercenary might disappear if sent, but the Agarthan would rightfully calculate that nothing could save him if he tried his hand against Byleth’s father. It had worked countless lifetimes before, and occasionally given them a helpful nugget of information, from troop movements to Thales’ own mental state.

“That is another thing I would like to know about.” Rhea said as they reached her chambers, closing the door behind the group. “Edelgard’s behavior has been- distant. Is this normal?”

Byleth tilted her head and told a white lie. “Yes. The stress of inheriting the empire always weighs on her shoulders.”

Rhea clicked her tongue. “And does she know about Thales? What he has done to her uncle?”

Edelgard never appreciated anyone sharing her life story, least of all Byleth whenever she told Rhea. “No. But their relationship has always been rocky since the insurrection. She will weep no tears if Arundel disappears.”

Rhea hummed. “For the bonds of family to be so frayed...” She glanced to Jeralt. He glanced back, before sighing. Byleth prepared herself.

“Byleth…Kid.” Jeralt started. “Look, I know you’ve probably-“ He paused. “-You’ve already heard this, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. You don’t have to keep me in the dark about anything.”

“I know.” Byleth said. “And I thank you for your support.”

Jeralt stared at her. His tongue struggled against his teeth, before he finally let out a sigh. “I know you weren’t the most emotional kid growing up, and I know it isn’t fair for me to expect you to act in any particular way, but…” Jeralt breathed. “There’s this distance between us now, that I just can’t explain. I know your keeping secrets from us, and I know you have good reasons-“ His lip twitched. “Or better reasons then I did. I hope. But there’s something-“ His tongue caught in his throat again.

“Intangible. A barrier that wasn’t there before.” Byleth finished, as she always did. This conversation was a constant. And it thorns and lack of thorns always hurt in the most peculiar ways.

“Byleth, I have not known you long, but I feel the same.” Rhea spoke earnestly. “You keep secrets from me-from your father- far to often. Keeping Hapi’s powers away from me for example. You must have known I would learn the secret sooner or later.”

“Because they are not my secrets to give.” Byleth said. “None of them will cause much on any harm-“ So long as Edelgard decided to stop the war. “-And if I were to just tell people secrets, that would destroy my relationships.”

“Yes, I understand, but it’s-“ Rhea glanced at Jeralt.

He bit his lip and continued. “Look. Byleth. Kid- We’re a family. No matter what. You can always count on us, and I know its strange, hell, I’m living it. But me and Rhea, you gotta understand, we’re here for you.”

Byleth reached out her hands and wrapped them around Jeralt and Rhea’s, who held hers numbly. “And I am here for you.”

As one, Jeralt and Rhea looked at her, before turning to each other. As always. Byleth had never been very good at expressing emotion. But they always understood, in their own way.

“Thank you, granddaughter.” Rhea said softly. “You are a kind soul.” A small smile grew onto her face. “You should spend some time with your father.” It was not a suggestion.

“Alright.” Byleth turned to Jeralt. “Where would you like to go, dad?”

“…Let’s just walk.” Jeralt took her hand and opened the door. Rhea waved goodbye to them, and Jeralt and Byleth began to silently wander through the halls of Garreg Mach. Eventually Jeralt paused, and settled on a balcony overlooking the canyon, gazing down into the growing shadows of the night. Byleth settled next to him, long used to comfortable silences.

“Hey, kid, I want to know…” Jeralt spoke up suddenly. “This afternoon, at the graveyard. You were…” His lips soured, and he looked away. “Actually, forget it.”

Byleth’s eyebrow perked. “Try me.”

“No, I don’t want to know the answer.”

Byleth hummed. “I can tell you for certain, if you’d like.”

Jeralt stared out into the darkness. The sun set and the moon rose. A priest walked by, igniting a few torches. A gentle breeze blew through the air. Steam rose from the Sauna not far away.

“I think I saw you looking at the space between graves. And then you started acting weirder than you already do in Rhea’s office.” Jeralt’s voice wat heavy. “Do I want to-“ He bit his tongue. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Byleth stared out into the distance. The absence of thorns against her heart was hurting the most now. She took a breath. “No, I-“

_Tell him._ Sothis spoke up suddenly. _You need to tell someone._

Byleth bit her lip. Sothis hissed.

_You can’t just carry this thought by yourself forever. He deserves to know._

_He wouldn’t understand._

Sothis sighed. _Byleth. Trust me. Trust yourself. Just this once._

Byleth sighed. “That is where I burry my children.”

Jeralt snapped to attention. He opened his mouth, and then closed it, again and again.

_Are you happy?_

Sothis was quiet. _…That was blunt, even for you._

“I…” Jeralt started, and then stopped. “Do-I…” He gulped. “I thought your kids would live as long as you.”

“Generally. Some die in war. Other of sickness. A tragic few at birth.” Byleth thought she saw a bird in the distance. She studied it. It didn’t seem to be moving. Perhaps it was sleeping. Though the wide open terrain it was on suggested that it was dead.

“…You get married?” Jeralt’s voice was dry.

“Many times.”

“…Who?”

Byleth shifted. “A few people. It depends.” She had been wrong. The bird was just a trick of the darkness. She kept studying it. “It’s odd. No matter what I do, I always have different children with them too. No matter what precautions I take, they always change in shape, in gender, in personality. It’s a peculiar problem.” She kept staring. “Other times, the thought of it drives me mad and I swear off having kids. Eventually the loneliness gets to me, and I try again, with still more children. Sometimes I adopt. Sometimes I seek those children out, only to find they still have parents.” Her eyes ached. “My memory is vast, so I can remember all their names at least. But then I know my memory is not infallible. I sometimes worry if I’ve forgotten any. It’s not like I can write them all down between lives. I hope I remember them all. I’m certain I remember all their other parents, at least-“

Jeralt grabbed her roughly. “How the hell can you say this!” His voice cracked, and tears were in his eyes. “How can you- Byleth, what your saying, it’s-“ He let out a shudder. “It’s horrible. How can you-“

“Years of experience.” Byleth checked her eyes. No tears. Though she had begun to ramble. Perhaps Sothis had been right. She did need to tell people from time to time. “Don’t worry. You always meet them.”

Jeralt looked as if he had been struck. Then he wrapped Byleth in his arms. “Come on, kid. We’re getting hammered tonight.”

Byleth looked up into the starry night. A bright star shone up near the moon. She could recall that in two centuries, it would never shine again. She returned her father’s embrace.

* * *

Behind a corner across from the daughter and father, Dimitri could only dig his fingers into the cobblestone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve gone back and noticed a fair bit of chunkiness between chapters. I thought about editing it more, but I think I will let their awkwardness stand as a testament to growth, and work towards improving as I go.
> 
> Speaking of awkward chapters, the next one should be a lot better. I hope. And fear not shippers, the eventual pairings will be egalitarian. Dimitri just requires the earliest setup. For reasons.


End file.
